There is sadness throughout my family as we mourn the loss of my Aunt Jan. It's probably the first time in my life that I have associated sadness with Aunt Jan - she was always the life of the party, making everyone laugh, no matter what the situation. Actually when I think of her now, I can't help but remember how much she made me laugh.
Michele and I were talking to my mom on Friday morning just before Mum found out that Jan had passed. We were recounting my fondest memory of my aunt: whenever we would visit Aunt Jan when I was a child she would say, "Lord, Shelly, I can't wait until you outgrow that squeaky high voice of yours. It sets my ears to ringing!" I would giggle and say, "Oh, Aunt Jan!" And then I'd sit close beside her and look at all the rings she wore - so many! I always thought Aunt Jan was a sort of gypsy because of all those rings.
When I visited her as an adult, somewhere in my late twenties, I said, "Aunt Jan, I bet you're glad that I finally outgrew that high, squeaky voice, right?" And she laughed and said, "Who says you have?! It's just as high and squeaky as ever!"
This past Friday, as Mum, Michele, and I were chatting about this memory - a memory that came upon us out of the blue - I remember commenting that I couldn't wait for Aunt Jan to meet our baby, who I imagine will have the same high, squeaky voice that Jan so teased me about as a child. I imagined we'd come full circle. And then, just a few hours later, we learned that she'd passed away. I have a feeling that she's already met our little baby and is already teaching her or him lots of naughty things. . .and already teasing her/him about that high, squeaky voice that I'm sure I passed on.
You are dearly missed, Aunt Jan, but I bet you've got all the angels in heaven laughing up a storm!