the cool aunt
My Dad turned sixty-one recently and I think, somehow, that’s really scary. Maybe it’s because he’s on the cusp of being a senior citizen. Or maybe it’s because I, despite the fact I know he won’t die soon, believe he will die soon — either of old age or some crazy, freak accident.
We had a party for him, my aunt (his sister) brought cake from the good store. She lives about forty or forty five minutes away from us, on the other side of the metro area. It’s really sweet to me after how all these years they’ve stuck by each other’s side for sixty one years. They were born to Irish Catholic parents on the east side of the metro area, they attended a catholic school until they got into high school— then, they transferred to the public school there. They graduated, went to college, and got married. My dad had three kids and my aunt got divorced. She never remarried, instead taking care of her ailing parents. My granddad was first to go, then my grandma a few years later.
Growing up, my aunt had a pool. She was by far the cooler aunt of my dad’s sisters. My mom would drag me and my twin brother out there every weekend or so to swim, until high school, when we got jobs, had extracurriculars to attend, and other young adult duties. She still has this pool— I heard a neighbor kid uses it now. Time really is a circle.
I love my dad and his sister. I want to have a relationship like that with my brothers one day. I hope I am the cool aunt.