I call my Aunt Mary Jane every Sunday at 5:00 PM. It is something I never fail to do. I have committed to her. It has gone from habitual to a sacred ritual as we mark time together. She is my Dad’s sister. She was his only sibling. My mother was an only child. Aunt Mary Jane has one son who had no children, so my family line on both sides stops here.

Aunt Mary Jane is eighty-four. My Aunt and Uncle have an environmental engineering company in a suburb of Chicago. My Aunt runs the books for the company while my cousin does the actual work. His office staff writes the reports. Uncle Bob takes care of his health.

We are aunt and niece, but more importantly, we are friends. We have talked about everything under the sun and feel comfortable in sharing the not-so-fun times in life – my sister dying, my cousin’s wife dying and these emotions we don’t want to share. Feelings are not what my family likes to share because they open our hearts and make us vulnerable. I grew up in a family that held the belief that work is life. Express yourself through work so that the emotions don’t bog you down. I like that concept, and maybe that’s why I became an Occupational Therapist years ago. However, what I know now, is that the emotions have to be felt and expressed then you can decide what feeling you don’t keep and what you do. This keeps us healthy, awake and loving our work.

I record, in my heart, the threads of our lives weaving in and out of the past, present and future with these conversations. I know that these weekly calls will come to an end as they did for my Gramma B (her Mom) and my Mom. I know I am treading lightly so every Sunday, every phone call, I gather the energy of our conversations and let my heart record them. She sends her love to Grant, the family, and my dog and cats. I send my love to Uncle Bob, Rob, Lucky (their cat).

My cousin travels often, and he has three cats. My Aunt and Uncle go twice a day to feed their cats and give human companionship. They watch their son move through the grief process as a widow. He has gone out on a date once. She wasn’t interested in him, just the man who set them up.

My cousin wants to share his life with someone again, but you cannot hurry into these things. There is a comfort knowing my Aunt and Uncle love his cats like their own.

I went back home early January for my girlfriend, Tami, her husband’s surprise 60th birthday party. Remember, I wrote the book gathered from family and friends’ emails. Tami and I decided a larger size for the book – 7”x10” and color pictures on the inside. It turned out so well that I decided this is the size of all books now. I stayed at Aunt Mary Jane and Uncle Bob’s house. I slept on their very long couch in the living room. It was comfortable. I love how this home hasn’t changed. I see me as a youngster here playing in the lower level of their tri-level house which is now the office headquarters. I see my cousin’s paintings all around (because he painted when he was young). I lovingly embrace the items and mementos in their home because someday their belongings won’t be in this home. Yes, I treasure my visits to Chicago, and I cherish my weekly phone calls with my Aunt.

But what is the take away when my Aunt dies? The stories I have recorded that will be in her book that I can read whenever I want, my grandchildren and their grandchildren.

What will some of those stories be?

My Aunt is a breast cancer survivor. She went through the treatment protocol and made it through. That’s behind her now, and she doesn’t like to talk about it because she knows her attitude creates the day. So she goes to her annual exams but other than that, you’d never know. She has a great outlook on life, and maybe that’s where I got my wellness sensibilities.  She gets up at four in the morning the way I do. We both work better when the house is silent, and no one else is up. We know the beauty and satisfaction of being quiet, focused and doing our work without disruption.

My Aunt is happy and loves being the company’s bookkeeper. It is never-ending, and she likes that she has focus. She enjoys life through this lens and is joyful doing the work and taking my uncle to his health appointments. She loves Lucky as a cat friend who lays on top of her paperwork, but she accepts that’s the price you pay for a feline friend. Aunt Mary Jane had an active life. They had a plane and flew all over the country. They had a boat and went yachting in Lake Michigan. They were scuba divers and sharpshooters at the gun club and growing up I was mesmerized by all their different activities.

My Aunt still has a twinkle in her eye and the imagination to go on adventures. She was my Mother’s best friend growing up, and she would travel with Mom and her parents to their Long Beach summer home in Indiana. My Mom bought a house there for the last ten years of her life so Long Beach stays in the family archives of memorable locations and landmarks. To me, Long Beach will always be my Mom. I promised Aunt Mary Jane we would travel there for a nice lunch the next time I’m there.

So every Sunday, I make time to consciously call and record my memories in my heart and on a computer document, so when it’s time, my Aunt’s book is written and recorded for anyone who wants to read her story. In the meantime, I’ll look forward to calling her next Sunday.