LOVE boarded a plane and flew half-way across country, at ninety-two years of age to see her family one more time.
This here is my Aunt Lahoma from Oklahoma. She moved back to her home state and southern roots a few years ago. As much as she LOVEd California, after my Uncle Marty died, she just had to move back home. My uncle and aunt were married fifty-two years before he passed away. They were adorable together. The kind of couple you'd think of if you had to bring to mind a marriage you wanted yours to be like.
The day he died I called her on the phone. And, for the life of me, I will never forget the words she spoke that day, "Joanne, I just lost the best thing that ever happened to me."
That pretty much sums my aunt and uncle up.
She's actually my great-aunt. The aunt who taught me how to use a salad fork, how to walk in Cuban heels (as she called them), and how to love a husband with all your heart. Growing up, she was at all our family birthdays, Christmas dinners and Thanksgiving gatherings. Her pumpkin cake recipe is still coveted by the family.
Sunday, the six of us drove two hours to spend the afternoon with her at my Aunt Cathy's house. Each time we see her, we wonder if this will be the last time. It makes for a melancholy visit. She is a real southern belle with a splash of California pizazz. I wish everyone could've grown up with their very own "Aunt Lahoma".
This week, over at our house, LOVE boarded a plane at ninety-two years young and flew over 1300 miles to see us.
What does LOVE look like in your home this week?
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