Aunt Flossie was one of the most beautiful women around; fiercely independent and ‘mean as a snake’ (in a good way). She was the kind of woman who dressed up, put on red lipstick, a fur coat (yes, fur coat) and just lived life to the fullest. Lots of laughter and fun. I think I saw her drinking hypnotic last year at Thanksgiving. Yep, it was her.
She lived on her own accord way way way down in the country where the sky is filled with stars, the land is made of red clay and old tobacco barns still stand. (will post pics later). She was sharp as a tack and smiled easily. Aunt Flossie even helped to make a huge thanksgiving dinner last year like it was nothing! Maybe that’s why she wanted ‘a little taste’ of Hypnotic when we were all joking around after dinner. The stories were flowing.Too bad we didn’t have more bottles and more time. We teased her until daylight caught us about driving back and forth to WalMart on her own. Well, in all honesty, she drove with Aunt Fannie Bell, her sister who, it is important to note, could not drive. So, as sisters would have it–one drove and one navigated. Yep, that’s how they rolled.
My Aunt Flossie died today. She was 92 and driving until she couldn’t. Doctors had to amputate her leg a few weeks ago and true to form, she pulled out IV lines and just gave the nurses a hard time (in a good way).
Last week, the family got together for a dinner with her in the nursing home, where she was convalescing. She listened to our own stories, talked a lot and drank Mountain Dew. As I looked at her in the wheelchair with one leg cut at the knee, I remember thinking how hard it must be to have your identity tied to being independent (living on one’s own, driving, cooking) and then suddenly you can’t do those things. But yet, looking at her face, I saw the joy and happiness there as we all swapped stories and filled the room with love and laughter.
Aunt Flossie sure did kick ass for 92 years.
now, I need to go walk with my dad. He’s got to get his strength and his confidence back.