Aunt Roe's Last Day - A story of acceptance

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A story of acceptance

In loving memory of the one person who loved me my entire life

Author's note: This is not how events unfolded in real life, but this is how I play them out in my head if I were able to be by my aunt's side during her final hour. There was no button for revisionist fiction but I suppose this is what you would consider this story. I didn't go far into details and certainly didn't touch on the decision to take my aunt off of life support because it wouldn't serve the story well. But I had this in my mind for days, and thought I better write it down so maybe I wouldn't be haunted by it any longer. I know healing will come, but it seems so far away.


As a four year old child I could remember walking down the silent corridors of Wyckoff Heights Hospital. I can’t remember the pictures on the wall, if there were any, but I do remember the shiny green tile floor under my sneakers as I made my way to one specific elevator. Perhaps it is some sort of poetic justice that now as a 36 year old I was once again walking such a path. Back then, as on this day, it was to see my Aunt Roe. Of course when I was four, my purpose was to see my Aunt at work. She was a hematology technologist, and a damn good one I might add; they had offered to make her supervisor several times but she had turned it down because she liked the safety of having a union behind her. There are only a few things I remember about when I was four, going to see my aunt at her job was one, and her torturing me with a particular Beatles song was another. This day however, was going to be the last time I walked down a hospital hallway to visit my aunt, for this day I had come to say goodbye.

I think I knew early on that my Aunt may not live to see this year through. Back in November of last year she had a stroke. She bounced back but I think it was the ringing of the final bell. I had wanted to move up to South Carolina, but I was told not to. Though I don’t know for certain, I think my mother had a lot of influence on that decision. Nonetheless, I was told to stay put in Florida and I feel I was robbed of a few memories during what would be my Aunt’s last year on Earth.

It didn’t matter, I thought as I shook away any anger or self-pity. It is what it is and here I was about to do the hardest thing I have ever done. I was about to say goodbye to the one and only person who had always been there for me in my life. It seemed sort of surreal as I made my way into ICU and towards the room where my Aunt lay.

I almost expected to be stopped by staff, to be told something like “only family members.” I had a response planned for that, but didn’t get the opportunity to use it. “She raised me,” I would’ve said proudly, but with tears in my eyes, “I am her child.” The last statement would’ve been more a dagger at my mother than anything else. I was emotional, but I remained calm.

I stood outside of the room. I don’t remember what the number was, but that really is important is it. I was glad that at least it was a private room. I took a deep breath and ran my thumb and forefinger across my eyes to remove the tears. The papers were already signed to remove my aunt from life support, another decision by my mother that I will add to the top of the list of reasons of why I can’t stand her, and now it was only a matter of time. The priest had read her last rites the night prior which I found quite hypocritical; the church had excommunicated her before I was born, but I guess in the end they were willing to forgive her of her sins. I pushed down on the hook like handle and opened the door.

I was quiet, and I didn’t think that my Aunt would’ve heard me as I walked in. It wasn’t expected that I would be there. But slowly, as if we great difficulty, she turned her head from gazing out the hospital window and looked directly at me. Her face was very thin, but free of any pain. The IV that was hooked up to her arm fed her some pain killer and that was all. But as soon as she saw me, I knew she still had control of her faculties and she smiled.

I almost broke down right then and there into a sobbing pile, but I held my composure as best I could. I could feel the tear running down my the side of my face, though I wish I were stronger.

“Hi Keith,” my Aunt said barely above a whisper. It was evident that her strength was waning.

I managed a meager smile as I looked toward the heart rate monitor that was steadily beeping every few moments. “Hi Aunt Roe,” I choked out of the words. “How are you doing?”

It was a stupid question I know, but what else was I going to say.

“Not too good,” my aunt admitted freely.

“I know,” I said as I took a deep breath once again and steadied myself. “That’s why I’m here.”

It looked like my aunt tried to nod, but it was barely noticeable as she made the bed rise further into a seated position. “I’m glad you came,” she said. “There’s no one I want more by my side at this time than you.”

“I thought it fitting,” I said as I sat down in a chair that was next to the bed. “You have always been there for me throughout my life, I should be here for you…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the statement.

My Aunt placed her hand on top of mine. “It’ll be okay. Grandpa and Aunt Catherine and Paul are all waiting for me.”

“Let them wait just a little while longer,” I managed to say. “I won’t keep you long.”

My aunt patted my hand softly. “It seems that for the longest time life has conspired to keep us apart,” she said in a raspy halted manner. “But you’re here now, that’s all I need to know.”

“We were separated by distance, but you have always been close to me.”

My aunt smiled. “And you have always been close to me as well. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you.”

I knew she was telling me the truth. Her statement brought me both joy, because I knew that no matter where I was or how bad things got, she was with me, and it brought me utter sorrow, because I knew that in a little while that comfort would end. “And I will continue to think of you all the days I have left.”

“I know. I did my best to love you as best as I could.”

“You did a wonderful job,” I said as brought her hand to my face and let her wipe away a tear.

“I loved you as if I had given birth to you, you know that don’t you?”

“I know. But how many times did I ask to call you mom and you told me no,” I said as I remembered countless Christmases and birthdays where I had bought her a “#1 mom” or “mother” charm, but never was allowed to address her as such.

“I did that out of a courtesy for my sister,” my aunt freely admitted. “But we both know I am your mother by deed, if not by title.”

“I suppose there is no greater title in my book than Aunt Roe. It supersedes mother any day of the week.”

“There’s one thing I was never able to figure out,” my aunt said calmly.

“Here’s your chance,” I tried to make it sound like a joke, but most likely failed.

“It’s about that thing you told me, about you being a girl a few years ago.”

“Oh that,” I said, hoping that my last moments with my aunt weren’t going to be an argument.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

The question took me off guard. I was expecting a different track, one that perhaps I have heard before. I was expecting the bits about me being a wrestler or the question if maybe I were gay. “It’s not something that readily comes up in conversation.”

My aunt smiled once again. “Part of me suspected it when you were little.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s not something that readily comes up in conversation,” my aunt shot my own words back at me.

“But how did you know?”

“A mother knows,” my aunt said wryly. “Sometimes it was the way you walked or the way you stood. At times I could’ve sworn that I was looking at a short haired little girl. But I thought maybe that you had those mannerisms because it was just us and that maybe you were picking up on my habits because you had no one else to model after.”

“So I stood like a girl,” I did my best to mock offense.

“It was more than that, it was also the way you would cry at movies or pout or a dozen other things. I just didn’t know that on the inside you were having such a conflict. I’m sorry. If I would’ve known about how you felt about yourself on the inside, maybe I wouldn’t have tried to correct you so sternly. I just wanted you to grow up being the best you that you could be.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We did the best we could.”

“I know you told me the name you picked out. What was it again, Kathy?”

“Katie,” I said softly

“That’s right, so close to your other Aunt’s name. You could’ve picked something closer to Rosalie, you know?”

“I picked Katie because it started with a K and so does Keith.”

“It doesn’t matter, Katie, it’s your name, and who am I to judge.”

The tears streamed down my face. “You’re Aunt Roe, you have every right.”

“I never did see you in a dress. I never found you hiding clothes anywhere.”

I could tell my aunt was probing. “I only have dressed up a few times. When I was little it was in your things. Kind of sad that when I was 13 we were the same size.”

“I just wanted you to know, Keith, Katie, the I love you for who you are, not what gender you are.”

“Do you have to go?” I said, knowing what my aunt was implying.

“It’s time, my child.”

I’m looking through you,” my aunt started singing in halted breath the same song she sang when I was little. “Where did you go?”

“I’m right here, Aunt Roe,” I replied the same way I did when I was four. “Right in front of you.”

“I thought I knew you, what did I know?”

“You know me, Aunt Roe, it’s Keith.”

“You mean Katie,” my aunt smiled as the tears streamed down my face.

“It’s Katie.”

That seemed to make my aunt happy. “You sure are different, you have changed.”

“No I haven’t, I’ve been in the same clothes all day.”

“I thought I knew you, what was your name?”

I wanted to stop the tears from flowing but I couldn’t. “Don’t go,” I pleaded.

“It’s not my choice, but I will always be with you.”

“I love you,” I said through my tears.

“I love you too,” my aunt said and then closed her eyes. The hospital monitor let out a steady tone.

“I love you,” I said loudly as I wept and though I was heartbroken it comforted me that those were the last words we exchanged.

With tear filled eyes and a hurting heart. The End.
There are a lot more memories of my Aunt that I could share, but it will take time to heal before I can share them.
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Comments

Thank you for the story

I can't click the good story button just because it would seem inappropriate, but this made me cry. :'(
I hope you can feel better after this.


Hugs from British Columbia! :D

i clicked the "good story" button

because as heartbreaking as it was, it was well told.

Thank you for sharing this.

Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels

DogSig.png

Aunt Roe's Last Day - A story of acceptance

I know that she is in Heaven, waiting for you.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

YOUR BACK

good to see your back writing again ,you are a good author and no one on BCTS wants to lose you ,

We all love you Katie :)

ROO Roo1.jpg

ROO

hard

it had to be hard to write this story. i do feel it will help you to heal. its very hard to lose someone you love. ive had to do it two many times. may i offer you a hug or two?
robert

001.JPG

One of my favorite songs...

Andrea Lena's picture

...I am sorry for your loss; one that seems almost too hard to bear. I mourn also what I never had in this lifetime even if I never met her. She sounds like a real gem, and I'd have given almost everything I am or ever will be if I could have had just one moment with a aunt...a mom like her. Thank you, Katie. This was truly a blessing to me.


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Oh, Katie.

Beautiful, heartbreaking, and so full of love. Wow.

Maggie

Goodbye AUNT ROE

I have read your goodbye to AUNT ROE that must have been the hardest think you have every writen . I was crying openly bye the time I read the last line . I am so glad you shared your pain with us and I hope you feel better for doing so . Aunt Roe will always be with you as your ANGEL always watching over you till you meet again. I can't stop the tears -- LOVE YOU KATIE -- HUGS & KISSES RICHIE

Writing is cathartic

Though it may hurt at first, writing about this will help you to heal, Katie.

As you remember the love, remember the person you can better endure the loss and the injustices of life.

Very good story even if sadly one descriping a difficult time in your life.

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. I wonder would it do you good to think about why or what made your aunt so loving and non judgmental yet other members of her family, IE your birth mom, turned out cold or even greedy as we have learned from your blogs. What difference in their basic character or in their life experience made two such different people from the same basic upbringing?

Or if it is too painful to do with your family, do it with fictional people. Is it nature, nurture or pure chance that make one person good, another indifferent and yet another bad?

John in Wauwatosa

i know the difference

When my mom was little my grandmother died. Because her mother was sick, my aunt dropped out of school and took on the responsibilities of the house. I think my other Aunt and Uncle were out of the house by that time. My aunt had to give of herself during her teen years out of necessity and my mother was spoiled. One learned to give, one learned to take. I was given to the wrong one originally and because of a mistake I made when I was seven, I almost lost the one who loved me for ever and put her through a mental hell that may have shortened her life to my detriment.

K.T. Leone

My fiction feels more real than reality

Katie Leone (Katie-Leone.com)

Writing is what you do when you put pen to paper, being an author is what you do when you bring words to life

Thank you for sharing

Thank you for sharing your memories with us. It will help to cement those good memories of your Aunt Roe in your memory banks. Please take your time to grieve. And if at all possible, don't bottle up your grief and emotions. Talk about them with someone who is a good and trusted listener.

Jessica

I am honored

I am honored that you shared such a touching moment with us, both of you are very special people always remember that.
Love
Misha Novawoman

The only bad question is the one not asked.

The only bad question is the one not asked.

Her Last Moments

RAMI

Your visiting your Aunt Roe, your spritual Mom at her last moment, was a comfort to both you and her. I am sure that being there for her made her crossing over to the other side easier. Writing this must have been difficult, but it is also a way to cleanse your own soul from any doubts you had regarding your relatinship with her.

RAMI

RAMI

Liiving life alone has it's merits as well as it's potholes.

I had a rough youth, with no hugs, much work in the family business and physical abuse at whatever was deemed an error. I wanted to join the Marines and go to 'Nam to kill "the enemy". Then I began dating the woman I married. She saved me, got me involved in the church, and I'm still there. She had MS and fell, becoming a bedridden for 9 years. I took care of her and worked full time and kept up with church. She GRADUATED to the next life 17 months ago, enduring her trials with faith and dignity. 2 months after that I moved my mom in with me as she'd been hospiatalized and couldn't live alone. 2 months later she had a stroke so had to go to a nursing home, she passed 2 months ago. Now I'm alone... yet I'm not. My wife never left me. Her spirit of love and compassion has always been with me. While I miss her, I know we'll meet again. She even told me two weeks before she passed that she'd be waiting for me when I graduated, but that I should take my time. Her love endures. As for my mom, well, I'm being generous when I say I hope she made the grade. During her last year her faith crumbled. She was a believer out of fear of death, not because she accepted God's Grace. She made the last year miserable for my 2 sisters and I. I hate to say it, but we were all glad when she finally went. Instead of grief, we felt relief.

My wife and mom were quite a contrast. My mom was an active participating church go-er out of fear, my wife was an active participating church go-er out of love. My wife is still with me, helping me, encouraging me, loving me. I talk to her several times a day. My mom is simply gone.

After reading this story, I have no doubts your Aunt Rosalie has read your story. I'm sure she is sending her love and hugs your way. Clear your mind of anger and frustration, stand up, close your eyes, and open your arms. I have no doubt you'll feel her hug you. God does not let us alone. God loves us and will use/allow our passed loved one to comfort us. All you have to to is open yourself to God's love.

My grandfather taught me many lessons. One that has worked well for me is how to handle bad things that happen. He said that in EVERY event, there is good and bad, just that sometimes the bad seems stronger and overwhelming. The secret to dealing with it is to momentarily stop and step back. Search for the good in the event. When you find it, grab hold of it and hold it close to your heart, then dealing with the bad is easier and the light at the end of the tunnel is already in your hand. It takes practice and effort to do this, but it does work.

Don't worry about your anger and frustration against your mom. There is nothing you can do to change the past. Try to forgive your mom... but don't forget the hurt. Jesus never said "forgive and forget" he only said "forgive". Jesus was a human, he experienced anger and frustration... just look at what he did to the money changers tables in the Temple! Jesus knows how terrible human existence can be because he LIVED it. He died for us!

No person can pull themselves out of loneliness and dispair by themselves. But reach out and take Jesus' hand. He'll pull you out! With him by your side you're never alone. Remember, when the Pharasees tried to trick Jesus by asking him if it was right to pay taxes to Rome, he asked for one of the coins used to pay the taxes. It had the emperor's picture on it. Jesus' reply was to give unto Rome that which was Rome's and to give to God that which is God's. What this means is that we have to live in this world with all it's frustrations, but we do NOT have to be a part of it. Going out and facing the world is daunting but do-able. The secret is to not let yourself be caught up in it!

Please, reach out to Aunt Roe and let her hug you. You deserve it!

Boys will be girls... if they're lucky!

Jennifer Sue

Boys will be girls... if they're lucky!

Jennifer Sue

To Jennifer Sue

You wrote this comment sometime ago and I don't know how I kept missing it. But I wanted to thank you for it. I am still lonely, but, I suppose you are right, I am not alone.

I had a dream last night that featured my Aunt. She was pleased that I bought a house. In the dream she was just back and I had full knowledge that she had died... kind of weird. I knew she didn't have a place to go or money or anything, but I was more than happy to let her live with me. But even with her not having anything, she was still offering to help me... I think that is what I am missing. I miss having a person who puts my needs in front of theirs, I don't think there are a lot of people out there like that. Maybe if a person is lucky they get one or two people like that in their entire lifetime.

Katie Leone (Katie-Leone.com)

Writing is what you do when you put pen to paper, being an author is what you do when you bring words to life

In memory of Aunty Roe

My eyes are filled with tears for you and your loss.Time heals but we never forget.As time goes on the memories become happier as we celebrate the life of the one we miss and remember the highlights of our time together.My thoughts are with you.

devonmalc

Beautiful

Such a touching and beautiful story. Thank you for sharing!

Like my grandma

This is so sad and I hope you the best. ='( But, one thing I found weird while reading this is I felt like I was reading my and my grandma's own future since I couldn't imagine life without my grandma. ='( And your mother reminds me about my father since I hate my father and he barely visits me. Also, I know this may sound weird but, your story's seem to parallel my life almost perfectly. Well, I hope the best for you and please take as much time off from writing as possible so that your soul can heal. =) ~Kyle

still bringing tears

Amazing, I wrote this in November, six months ago. I almost read it to the end, but couldn't this time. I know I have written some tense and emotional stuff before, but this still effects me. Part of me is wondering if I should write the story of when my mother kidnapped me. Maybe I can make it TG revisionist type stuff.

Katie Leone (Katie-Leone.com)

Writing is what you do when you put pen to paper, being an author is what you do when you bring words to life