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| Aunt Louise in 1949! |
Every few months, I
contacted my Aunt Louise. Sometimes it’s a quick letter posted with a nice
card. Most of the time, it’s a phone call. If there’s any kind of weather
system heading to any corner of Texas, she’d initiate the contact to make
certain none of her Texas relatives had blown or floated away. I often called
her around Mom’s birthday in January and her own birthday in July. Over the
past year, my calls to Aunt Louise became a series of messages left on her
answering machine. Sometimes it was full, but most of the time I could leave
requests that she call me. Around her birthday, I decided to send a letter
because I worried about her health as she was 94. When the letter came back
with addressee unknown, I decided to contact my cousin in Illinois since he often
visited Aunt Louise. My aunt lived in a retirement area that allowed her to
move from independent living in an apartment to assisted living and nursing
care if needed. I thought she must have shifted to a higher care facility
without anyone contacting me.
Reaching my cousin,
though, proved difficult. His landline, in a home he’d lived in for more than sixty
years, was disconnected. I did a quick online search and found his obituary for
August 2020. I later learned he died of COVID-19. I tracked down his son, who I’ve not seen
since we were very young children, to learn that he could access Aunt Louise’s
information once he finished moving into his dad’s home. This was during the
summer of 2021, and I let it ride because grief laced every word my cousin
spoke. He assured me that he’d get Aunt Louise’s new contact information to me.
In December, I
received a phone call from someone I didn’t know. He stated that he’s the
executor of Aunt Louise’s estate, and she’d died in November. He asked for my
email information and cell number, which I gave him. He requested contact information
for my siblings, too. He sent a few emails with information on the VA cemetery
and the estate sale he’s having next week. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I
received an anxious call from my cousin’s daughter because she hadn’t reached
Aunt Louise and hit a block when talking with the nursing home personnel. She
only had my number because I’d left it with her brother. She had more frequent
contact with my aunt and was upset because no one from the facility had
contacted her about Aunt Louise’s death. As she was executor of the estate, she
was really worried when I told her someone else had contacted me! I learned
quickly that she’s a focused and fiercely loyal advocate for Aunt Louise. She
made phone calls and sent emails, demanded to see the will that this other man
claimed to have, and let me know that he’s legitimate. She let me know that Aunt Louise left money in
a trust, but I worry more about tracking down any photographs and personal
items that found their way to storage. This weekend, there will be a sale of
her household goods, and the executor of her estate assured me that he’d hunt
for family photographs and send them on to me. We have so little from Mom’s
childhood and teen years because she spent nine years in foster care. Maybe
Aunt Louise had a box of memories and mementos that will allow us to find both
her and Mom again.
Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
