Gone but not forgotten

On Friday, we said good-bye to my dear Aunt Glenda. She and my Uncle Bill lived a block away from us when we were growing up. When I was really young, they lived in an apartment in Greenbelt. I remember hiding behind their couch while watching The Wizard of Oz. But all my memories after that are at their house in our neighborhood.

I know my sisters went with me to visit, but I also have many memories of being there by myself. I’d cross the street, run through the neighbor’s backyard, and hop the fence into Aunt Glenda and Uncle Bill’s backyard. They put a cement block on either side of the fence to help us be able to climb over.

Aunt Glenda always had craft supplies. And by craft supplies, I mean adult craft supplies. At her house, she’d let us paint little wooden die-cuts with her acrylic paint. I specifically remember painting a gray cat. Why I remember this, I don’t know, but I do. I also remember cleaning and organizing their shed on multiple occasions.

My aunt liked to read. They had a sun porch where I’d find her nestled in the corner reading a book. And I was always impressed that she didn’t need an alarm clock to wake up. As a deaf person, she could’ve bought a modified alarm clock, but instead her body would just wake up!  I remember that blowing my young mind.

Aunt Glenda was known in her circle as the deaf Martha Stewart. Her homes were always decorated beautifully with things she’d made or carefully picked out at flea markets and antique stores. Her last house was a mix of beachy shabby chic with her collection of antique gray agate ware thrown in.

She was Southern to a T. Whether she was hosting or visiting, she always had a small gift to give. She always dressed her best and kept her things nicely. She served ice tea and cooked collard greens. I think one of the things that reminds me of her most is the smell of cooking garlic. She was a health nut who drank garlic shakes on a regular basis. I LOVE the smell of garlic to this day.

When we walked into the reception after the funeral, there was a basket of small soaps tied with fabric scraps (she loved to quilt). We all wondered if she’d made them herself. I’m not kidding, this is something she would do. Her daughter, Bonni, told us the story of the soaps.

Aunt Glenda got soap scraps from The Soap Fairy – a man who makes soap in the beach town where she retired. While browsing his collection one day, she noticed a bunch of scraps on the floor where he would shave the bars to make them even. Upon inquiry she found out he tossed them. She quickly set up a deal where she’d take them off his hands for free!  So every time she went, she’d buy a bar of soap and take home a bunch of scraps. My cousins found them everywhere in her house – stuffed in the couch and sitting chairs, stuffed in drawers and cabinets. She used them like potpourri! (Incidentally, she asked our cousin Zach to stop and buy soap bars from him on his way home from visiting her to support the Soap Fairy’s business!)

When Aunt Glenda passed away, Bonni knew they had to give something away (long story, but someone had gifted pralines at my uncle’s funeral so they wanted to make sure both parents had a favor)  She called The Soap Fairy who was honored to supply soap scraps. A friend helped tie scraps from her quilting material to the soaps the night before the funeral. This is what I mean, people. MARTHA STEWART!

Aunt Glenda would’ve been happy though. She was a well-planned, thoughtful person. She wrote out her funeral arrangements – service and reception menu on her sudoku book so Bonni and Billy would know what she wanted… down to having bagels and lox with kosher potato salad (we are not jewish) at the meal.

She also wrote out that she wanted “Karla’s Kids” (that’s me and my siblings) to get a quilt and left this box for my cousin….

She was a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it!

There are so many stories I could tell you, but for now, I think of how my deaf Aunt is singing in heaven with her mother, sisters, and husband. She LOVED music. So much that (let me remind you she couldn’t hear a thing) she was addicted to American Idol. Seriously. I love this woman. And I miss her. But thankfully, I can saute garlic and wrap up in a quilt anytime I want to feel like I’m sitting in her house again.

Thank you for remembering her with me today.