I’m sitting in a Hampton Inn lobby. In a little town in Pennsylvania, the morning of my Aunt Rozanne’s celebration of life. It’s brought back all the memories. Especially the Thanksgivings at Aunt Rox and Uncle Tom’s.
None of us are sure how many times we came for Thanksgiving over the years. It feels like it was an annual tradition. Or maybe it was only two or three times during those most formative years. The photographic record is spotty. But it left a lasting impression. It still never really feels like Thanksgiving if we aren’t at their house. Feeding our puzzle addiction and going to Penn State football games and visiting the Monroeville mall movies.
We’d pull up to their yellow brick house, a lifesize cardboard JoPa greeting us in the window. Back before the king fell. A pack of little dogs greets us. Yipping and barking and attacking us with love. And we’re enveloped in a frenzy of animals and cousins and all of the foods special to my family.
My mom is the youngest of three sisters. When I was little I’d sit at the kitchen counter on the weekends, swinging my legs as I perched on a stool. Drinking in the half of the conversation I could hear as she caught-up with her older sisters. Her eldest sister, Sara, looked like my mom and their mom and was clearly the first born. As a fellow big sister, she’s easy for me to understand. Aunt Rozanne, or Aunt Rox as we called her, was the middle sister. She laughs and swears, maybe even more than my mom, which is saying something. She has these beautiful pink cheeks and her eyes sparkle. I love listening to her accent. She’s the only one that looks like my grandfather, Pop, which I always found so intriguing. My mom is the youngest. Relishing this role as only Aunt Suzy can.
While I don’t think Aunt Rox likes to cook, she likes to eat. And when we’d visit she’d make all our most favorite foods. Mouthwarmers and Texas Sheet Cake and big piles of stuffing. My mom used to talk about how she’d eat milk toast growing up. I’m still not sure I even know what that is, but I know Aunt Rozanne loves it. She’d bring big pans of lasagna to the cabin. And let us eat any treat we wanted. She taught me to make peanut butter toast and tea. And while I never slathered butter on my toast prior to the peanut butter, like Uncle Tom, it’s still my most favorite, go-to comfort food. Soothing to the soul. The only appliance I took to college was a toaster for this very reason.
Aunt Rox has two daughters and so she always knows what girls like. In sixth grade she mailed me my first electric razor so I could shave my legs. My aunts would buy me make-up and things teenage girls like. One time we went to New York City and all the sisters went clothes shopping and took my cousin and me to the theatre. But Aunt Rox is also practical. Sending me a tool box with all the supplies when I left for college.
On those Thanksgiving trips, she introduced us to the mischievous mirth of pranks. She loved to give us fake dog poop and dog vomit and teach us exactly how to place it to get the best reaction. She taught us the trick of putting Saran Wrap under a toilet seat and the glee of a whoopie cushion. Once she bought us a book called Walter the Farting Dog. It came with an accompanying Walter stuffed animal, true to his name. She liked it even more than my little brother and me.
We all know how much Aunt Rozanne loves animals. She taught me how to befriend Buddy the parrot. Singing and dancing and making a real raucous. We fed her pig, Bonkers, grapes. We looked everywhere for her beautiful cats that would hide around the house. One time she took us to the mall to play with the puppies. Back when you could do such things. There was a cocker spaniel that bit my long hair and I fell in love. She loves animals even more than my dad. When I was in second grade we had twenty one animals. Multiple times we took Aunt Rox to the Santa Cruz flea market and came home with a parrot. Maxi for sure. And an umbrella cockatoo named Roxy in her honor. I always thought maybe my dad should have married my Aunt Rozanne over this shared love of animals. But the universe knew better than to create that kind of Tiger King match.
Aunt Rozanne had the best love life. Her stories were mysterious and memorable and the kind you hope to have after a life well lived. And even just this week we found some pictures that left us wanting more.
We spent many family trips together. Visiting the parrots in Sanibel and shelling on the beach. We paddled canoes and looked for horseshoe crabs. When I was older, we mixed girlie drinks and drank them on the lanai. And at the cabin in Flatrock, she gave baby Jacob his first cabin bath in the turkey roaster. She lounged on the porch and asked about our fishing excursions and brought masks for the outhouse we call Sutton Memorial.
Speaking of the Sutz, she was a loyal reader of my blog. This one. The one I started sixteen years ago. I like to think she genuinely enjoyed it, once telling me it would make a great book to read on the pot. Isn’t that exactly something Aunt Rox would say?
I love you Aunt Rox. I am so thankful for you and your place in my life. We lost my husband James almost three years ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I know Uncle James welcomed you with open arms and a big Texas Sheet Cake, made a couple days before so it would be at its best– cake in one arm, and a puppy in the other. Happy Thanksgiving Aunt Rox. It was the most special day with your big, beautiful family. I know you’ll take good care of James. Good thing he likes to cook and you both enjoy great food. He’s even trained on how to make mac and cheese the best way, served with ketchup of course.
As I say every night when we blow out the candle, and tuck in for the night– We love you and we miss you forever.