It’s around this time of year, not sure what day, or even what year, that Aunt Margaret died. It was four years ago? Five?
I was in Vermont when I got the news, indirectly, through Facebook. Cousin Lynn, in Africa, had posted “Coming home for Mom’s funeral.” That’s a terrible way to find out someone you really love has died. And I loved Aunt Margaret a lot. She also drove me nuts. More on that in a bit.
This will sound terrible, but my first thought as the news sank in that day was, “Why can’t it be one of the Mean Aunts!”
I’m thinking about Alice Margaret Hickox (nee Newby) this week, and will write more later. Be prepared to get your hands covered in melted marshmallow.