bye aunt bea

it seems somehow disingenuous to not mention any real deaths i might encounter in my life. death is a theme throughout most of what i write, in both song and blog form. when it really does come and visit me, i feel strangely guilty about not mentioning it to you, the reader of these rather sad, odd musings.

so below is a short account of my aunt's life. it's still all sinking in so i'm keeping it on the short side - which for me is still somewhere on the long side.

my mother's oldest sister died on tuesday, september 7, 2010 a little after 6 pm.

her name was beatrice fernandez.

i knew her when she lived in el paso. she was a schoolteacher most of her life, who never married and at one point, became a deaconess in the methodist church . she was born in hillsboro, texas in 1926. she retired to austin several years ago to be closer to their youngest sister, olga.

i was able to visit occasionally. but i just assumed she would be there for as long as i liked.

she developed stomach cancer two years ago and despite her skeptic doctors, it went into remission at some point.

but last week the cancer returned.

she was the most giving person i'd ever met. she could be strict, but she really loved people in this way that i've rarely witnessed; without judgement or prejudice, with true humility.

out last time together was sunday. she was awake, but groggy. she smiled when she saw her family around her.

i played her a few songs. 'living again' and 'alfie'.

she seemed completely at peace and happy to hear us in the room with her.

my brother said he had never heard me sing before. maybe he meant really up close like that.

i hadn't thought about it until he mentioned it.

each visit, i would pull up a chair to her bed and play a few songs and chat and thank her for everything that she'd done for me and my family.

but she could only muster a few words that day. they were mostly to thank someone in the room.

love seems to warp the way we experience things.

i only feel love coming from her still, just as when she was alive. and i will feel her love until i too am dead.

so in this way, we can live on; through the legacy of good or evil retained in the repercussions of our actions that can linger long after we are dead.

this seems like the most reasonable association i could make with a concept like heaven or hell.

and so, by associating these two things, i conclude my aunt is in heaven.

and death, as weighty and final as it is, cannot defeat love.

and i learned this from her.

thank you, aunt bea.

love,

joe