In honor...
Running behind to get to the cemetery, we passed the shiny silver truck with “COFFEE” emblazoned on the back end of the tank. I find myself grinning as the memory flashes.
“Where is the coffee?!”
Cabinets clanging, house slippers shooshing across the kitchen floor and grumblings…I watched as my Aunt rummaged through her cabinets.
My aunt shuffled around some more and I giggled. Everyone always joked about my aunt and her morning coffee. Or the way she was without it…exaggerated really, but she was more of a morning person after her coffee.
In my child’s mind I wondered, how could someone lose that big red can?
I loved visiting my Aunt. At this time, she lived in a high rise apartment. We loved it. We had to take an elevator up to her apartment, that was so cool. My brothers and I were suburban kids. Ranch home, yard with a big oak tree, carport, and swing-set in the chain link fenced back yard. To visit someone who lived in a skyscraper (to our young eyes) was, well, 
enviable by everyone one of our friends!
We rode up and down the elevator, stopping at every floor. We swam at the square pool, and drank iced tea sitting in lounge chairs. Her apartment was always on the chilly side, central air conditioning I think. I recall her apartment being modern, with carpet and stuff. Yeah, this was how I wanted to be…when I got tired of raising horses in Kentucky that is. Was I planting the idea of city mouse, country mouse even then?
Back to the coffee, or lack thereof.
My aunt worked as a secretary for a major railroad. She dressed up really fancy and always had pretty fingernails and earrings and pantyhose on. I remember those things and I remember her smoking and carrying herself with confidence. And she was single! I did not know any other single, grown up women. You know, women my mom’s age or older that did not have husbands. Except for my aunt who was a nun. She of course was not married to a real man, she was married to Jesus. I often wondered if Jesus was married to every nun. Hmmm…in the mind of a young girl that never really made sense.
Anyway, my single aunt. She had a car and nice clothes and laughed a lot. She was independent and boisterous. She gave advice, strongly, invited or not. Passionately loved her family. She was always right. And she stood firmly for her convictions. Fiercely loyal. And full of humor and teasing. She was eternally 29. She had a boyfriend sometimes. And lots of friends and social times. A professional who took care of herself and was confident and deeply spiritual. She told you what she thought and let you know if you had green in your teeth of something hanging out where it should not be.(who can say belt/sanitary napkin?)
And…she was a little cranky in the morning before her coffee. This was funny for me, her actions and the pink tape holding her stylish coiffure in place. I privately swore I would never drink the stuff if it meant being that way without it. (I held out until I was 25)
I do not remember how long my Aunt lived in that high rise apartment. Just that in looking back through my adult eyes, she was the first real example of a strong woman, whole unto herself. Goddess Diana. Maybe she wanted a partner, I do not know. It just seemed that she was just fine without a man. A great piece of the archetype puzzle modeled so well for a young girl just beginning to explore the path to womanhood.
Today in church, the scent of incense strong about me, I prayed in gratitude and in celebration of a life well lived. I remember we had our challenges as I grew into a young woman and I know that was partly because we mirrored for each other those strong traits I try to model for my daughter. And partly because she and I just flat disagreed sometimes!
Standing under the tent, listening to the Priest say burial prayers, I wonder if my aunt will be laughing down at me when I shuffle around in my slippers and robe, tending to that part of my daily ritual common to hers…
Coffee.
