My Aunt Gen was the quintessential great-aunt. She was a dreamer who gave me a safe place to dream my own dreams. There was never such a thing as “too lofty” an aspiration. In fact, at times I think she believed my dreams were not grandiose enough. But she was far to kind to ever tell me so. Somehow she knew a young person needs someone to come alongside him and nurture that unmapped part of his brain that dreams big, and foster that corner of his heart that keeps those dreams safe.
Aunt Gen was equal parts love and grace, always accepting of any of my friends who came with me to her house to help move a piece of antique furniture or hang a dramatic painting on the wall. There was always gourmet food to be eaten, albeit the portions were très Français: a light summer salad, a few spoonfuls of soufflé, perhaps a sliver of freshly baked persimmon bread. Nonetheless, it was just enough to get a taste of something delicious and allowed more time for conversation without full mouths.
It is not easy to envision our family without Gen. Even as I type, the reality of our loss, (her gain), leaves me with an aching heart and moist eyelashes. However, I believe that she is now alive in a place even she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams. And that’s saying a lot, isn’t it?
And so now, with an affinity for persimmon bread and soufflé, I will cultivate in the young people in my life the appreciation for big dreams, the ability to grandly dream for themselves, and the blessed assurance that our Father’s ultimate dream for His children is meant for us all.
We’ll miss you, Aunt Gen…
- Love, Michael
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