Minnesota and my Great-Aunt Judy

Katie D.

August 16, 2009 - 9:30 AM

Finally I'm returning to a story from a few weeks ago. It's taken me a while because it's a sad piece of my summer, and because it's taken me a while to process exactly what I should tell.

I took a trip to Minnesota July 13th to 16th. I have spent part of almost every summer of my life out there in Minnesota farm country. That's where my mom comes from, and where almost all of her family still lives. My grandparents, until recently, still lived on the small farm where she grew up. The vast majority of my family out there are either farmers or descendants of farmers. I have witnessed second-hand, therefore, as lifestyles have changed and farmers have sold off their land for development.

That's part of what's sad about this trip for me. My grandparents moved off the farm and into town, and will probably sell it to developers. They recently donated the old farmhouse (which had been standing empty for a couple of years now) to the fire department as a practice ground. I couldn't go back to see it: my childhood playground of farmhouse, garage, and barn all burned and flattened.

But here we come to the real point of the trip, the real point of the story.

My mother's aunt had been fighting a resurgence of cancer for many months. My mom and I planned this trip together, to meet in Minnesota and say goodbye to my great-aunt Judy. As her treatment progressed, it had become clear that she did not have much time left. In fact, she died two days before we arrived in Minnesota.

Judy was a fabulous piece of my childhood. Out of all the blurred adult faces of distant relatives I remember from my childhood visits, Judy's face stands out. She was the one who hosted the parties and family reunions. She told the most fabulous jokes, usually paired off with her husband John. The two of them could send an entire family gathering into hysterics. She was fabulous with me and my cousins, and was obviously extremely special to my mother and grandmother.

I wanted to tell Judy that: tell her thank you for the memories she had created and for all the work she had done to bring my family together over and over during those hot Minnesota summers. I wanted to ask her to tell me stories about the seven months my mom lived with her before she got married to my dad.

But I also know that Judy had been suffering hugely. She had stopped seeing almost everyone in her life, without her usual energy to entertain and perhaps wanting to spare her friends seeing her in such a condition. Her husband, John, was constantly with her.

So we didn't get to say goodbye. As John told my mother when we first arrived, "You just missed her." My last memories of Judy are what happened directly after her death: her funeral and the huge joyful family reunion that happened directly after.

I heard hundreds of wonderful stories of Judy. Stories from my mother and grandmother, stories from her and John's children, stories from her church friends and neighbors and friends from all stages of her life. What was mentioned most was her humor and creativity, her giving spirit, and her love of cats and chocolate martini's.

We had several wonderful gatherings in her honor. The family was together again because of Judy. She was so loved and so missed. She still is: Judy is not someone you could possibly forget.