My family and other people

When I arrived in the morning to get her, aunty was pale and stressed out. "I've had loose motions all morning," she said. She was scheduled to meet with social security and they were going to reevaluate her benefits. The letter said, "If you don't show up for the interview, your benefits could be cancelled." That is their standard lingo, but it made aunty very nervous. She was solemn and quiet as we loaded her walker into my car and as we waited in the lobby of the social security office. When her name was finally called, I went with her and told the lady at the counter that she was hard of hearing. Some of the questions I relayed to aunty by yelling in her ear. For the rest we had to call her out-of-town daughter Dushy who had been on stand by for just such an eventuality. The counter lady was kind, aunty's benefits were re-approved and we were done quite fast. What a relief! There was a new spring in aunty's step, a new gleam in her eye. A...

Now that Vino aunty is gone, I miss her more than I ever expected to. She was rushed to the hospital and came back so many times - even the time the chaplain came and solemnly intoned "she is on her way home"  -  that I thought she was going to make it to a hundred. We first met her when we were moving into an apartment in Novi. (This was when we were still new to Michigan and before our children were born.) It was a Saturday morning and with help from our friends we were hauling boxes and furniture up the stairs to the new apartment. An elderly lady came out from one of the downstairs doors and offered to make us lunch. "You must be so tired! Please tell me. I can make sandwiches for you." Of course we politely refused. But early the next day there was aunty on our doorstep carrying a bowl of hot fried lentil fritters. "I have brought some hot vades for you." That was the beginning of aunty feeding us for years and years, even long after we had stop...