A change in blogging plans

It's hard for me to believe that I haven't written on my blog in about a week or so. I found that in participating in the coComment mom/parent challenge, my usual style of random posting and choice of topics was restricted. It wasn't really, but it just felt that way. I had been sort of organizing a "what's new" post in my head given that the school year is upon us and we're trying to get into a rhythm, but that post is now postponed. because there's something else that just needs to be written about.

On Tuesday evening I received an email from my uncle Albert. That in and of itself is not particularly monumental as Albert likes to forward. We've all got an email forwarder don't we. He doesn't do it too much but since it's very 1998 it cracks me up and is very Albert. OK, I've digressed.

Back on track. Albert's email told me of the loss of Aunt Betty. Aunt Betty was the Judge's youngest sister and she had been the last living relative of that generation of Cook's. And it is her children with whom my dad and aunts and uncles formed the strongest bonds. The closest cousins in age thing. I immediately felt compelled to attend the service and knew that I would be going to funeral. I literally felt my father's presence for he would have been at the funeral. It's not out of a sense of obligation but just knowing it's the right choice. It's what you do without a question even rising.

Just as receiving the email from Sue (aunt Betty's daughter) has spurred Albert to reminisce and conjured up a few memories for him, I too went into my head.

What I've come to realize is that my memories of my great aunts are intrinsically connected my own aunts. With Storrs and the Separatist Road house as "home" for my family it's easy to understand this synaptic configuration. My aunts traveled extensively to far off lands when I was young, but when they would return to Storrs and begin their legendary "galavanting" (a Bob word) a visit to Meriden to see "the aunties" was always in the cards. These trips to Meriden involved visiting each and every aunt. Some lived together as I recall. They might also include performances at a senior center or some other venue. I mean, Cook's are entertainers. This was a special time for me as I didn't see my aunts that often and pretty much mysticized their lives. This little trips to see the "aunties" allowed me to catch a glimpse of who my aunts had been and who they were in relation to their aunts. I know it sounds weird, but I really didn't see my aunts that much for many years.

Oddly as I write this post, one of the most vivid memories I have of visiting aunt Betty is from a visit with my dad and aunt Mauli just around this time 7 years ago. I think it's because we have video that my father shot but also because it's 9/11 and that day and the days surrounding it are etched in my brain. (I'm working on editing the video so look for it in the future).
My brain has such a weird capacity to remember small details of tragedies but to forget a whole lot of other things.

Boy, I'm wondering if I make any sense on this post. It feels all over the place so maybe I need a little summary sentence or paragraph to connect the dots.

Aunt Betty's passing saddens me. I'm thankful to my aunts for connecting me to my great aunts.