My Aunt Linny

Last Sunday, as I was putting the finishing touches on the post I was about to publish, Dad called.  It was about 12:40 pm.  He told me that my aunt Linny (his little sister), who was in a rehabilitation center due to her failing health, had fallen the day before and was now unresponsive.  He said that it didn't look good and that she might only have days, or maybe just hours to live.  He told me that it would probably be a good idea to go over and see her sometime that day.  I made the decision that we would go see her right after church was over, at 3:00.  My husband Ryan strongly suggested we go right then.  I resisted at first because I was supposed to say the closing prayer in sacrament meeting.  When I came to my senses and realized that not only would I get out of saying the closing prayer (and yes, you'd better believe I thanked her for that one), but would also increase my chances of seeing my aunt alive one more time.  I agreed to go.  And I'm so glad that I did.  It was awesome to be able to see her, and talk to her, and hold her hand one last time.  As far as I know, I was the last one to have that privilege.  She died about an hour after I left.

The memories I have of my aunt Linny are mostly of laughing so hard I would pee my pants, which if you know me, isn't all that surprising.  When I was a little kid, she would pretend to make a loaf of bread out of me.  She would lay me on the floor while she "kneaded" me like dough.  She would then go through all the various steps of bread making until I was ready for the oven.  Then she and Dad would carry me over to the oven and convince me that they were actually going to put me in.  I can't remember if I peed at that point out of laughter or fear, but either way, the bread game made a lasting impression.  

Aunt Linny was my aunt, but she was also my friend.  We've had some awesome conversations about various subjects throughout my adult life.  You hear people say sometimes that someone "lit up the room" when they walked in.  I've always thought that phrase was cliche and just non-specific enough that it could pass as a thoughtful compliment, kinda sorta.  But honestly, I can't think of a better way to describe my aunt.  She was the person I'd wait by the door for at all the family parties.  I bet my cousins know exactly what I'm talking about.  There was nobody who could bring excitement and entertainment like Aunt Linny.  The life of the party.  Every.  Single.  Time.

This picture of she and my cousin Jesse says it all