I have had my phone numbers on my Aunt’s coffee table for the better part of a year. She had never called the number until the other night. I saw her name on the caller ID. Hmmm? I answered and heard her sobbing. Her sister (89 y/o) in Wisconsin had passed, in the hospital, from Congestive Heart Failure.
The news is unsettling, because another sister passes and the cause is equally troubling. I rush, in the night, to be with her. She greets me at the door sobbing. Oh, so sad. I sit with her into the night. She recounts stories of her sister from the 1930’s. The sister was the only one brave enough to approach their abusive, alcoholic father. She had some ability to cajole the man, that the others lacked. He resented 5 daughters. Now, 2 are left (92 & 93 y/o).
The loss opens up the wounds of my mom’s passing…only a few days shy of a year ago. The death also reveals something else. The sister in Wisconsin, was survived by a daughter, in her 60’s, never married. No friends. Totally devoted to her hoarding mom, in their hoarding home. How is this possible? The poor woman, the daughter, is at a loss. I called to talk. She is now alone with a house full of stuff .