letter to aunt max

Dear auntie em

Well Max the family has gathered this morning and Jo asked me to say a few words. Since you and I have not spoken in a while, I thought I would drop you a line with some of the things I have been thinking of lately.

First of all, I wanted to say how much I miss Thanksgiving out at the farm. Those holidays were really special, and you somehow always managed to throw some food on the table. As you often said, it wasn’t much, but we always managed to get enough to eat anyway. Some of the best naps I have ever taken were on your living 

room floor after eating. I could always count on you to either step on me or, if I was close enough to your chair, to have you use me as a place to rest your feet. Once we had rested up from dinner, we had pie to look forward to. And leftovers. Lots of leftovers.  Once you moved off the farm and we would have Thanksgiving at a restaurant, you would still make a full meal so we could have leftovers. I guess you figured a restaurant could never have a enough food to fill us up………

No matter what the occasion, you made sure the family was fed. Even when we all came to Lund cemetery to raise Aunt Hilda. You had been after Jo and I for years to raise Aunt Hilda’s headstone, so when we finally got around to it, you brought enough food to feed an army. We raised Aunt Hilda, and there is a great picture of you, sitting on the ground with a cup of coffee and doughnut, your feet in the hole where Hilda’s stone was. I guess you found a comfy spot to have coffee…….

The farm. Everyone loved coming to the farm. Knowing that you and Wally built the house yourselves gave it extra meaning. Although, I must admit, I could never figure out why you had a phone in the bathroom but no water in the kitchen………..but it was a great place for the family to gather. 

Max, I loved how you would always keep an eye on me, and how you tried to be so discrete about it. Like when I dropped by the farm to pick you up on my way to Fosston. I was driving my Camaro at the time, and I am pretty sure you were not wild about riding in that car. All the way to Fosston, you were using your peripheral vision to keep an eye on how fast I was driving. I know this, because at one point you said,  “you know, when you are this close to the ground, it seems like you are traveling much faster than you really are…..”

And when we were at April’s wedding in Las Vegas, I had the sneaking suspicion you were keeping track of the number of beers I was drinking. Somewhere around beer number 5 you gave me the look. THE LOOK. I guess it didn’t help that in response I raised my beer in a toast to you. Sorry Max. At the time, it seemed the thing to 

do….

Max, we all loved your wonderfully pragmatic style. I remember one time you told me about a vivid dream you had of Grandpa. You said he was walking across the yard at the farm to you. The dream was so vivid that you awoke from it. I asked you, “were you scared?” You looked at me and said “I wasn’t scared of him when he was alive, why would I be scared of him when he is dead?” 

Well I can certainly see the logic in that, and never forgot it.

Well as I said, the family has gathered today. My boys are here too. Remember how you would read to Arnold, and have him read to you? Now he writes books for children, I think you would like them. And remember how you would hug Tyler with the “Aunt Maxie death grip” around his neck? Well he is well on his way to becoming a teacher. I think that since your birthdays are right next to each other, it kind of bonded you. I see a lot of your personality in him.

I rode to Bemidji with Alison yesterday, we had a wonderful time sharing Aunt Max stories. We wish all the nephews and nieces could be here, because we all have hundreds, thousands of those stories.  You have touched so many lives, rest assured that those stories, those memories will live on for generations in the family.

I know you would not want me to go on and on or worse, to puddle up about all this. Far be it from me to cross SHE WHO MUST BE OBEYED.

Max, I’m gonna miss you. But I wanted assure you that

1. The family will be well fed today.

2. Jo will be OK. She is surrounded by a family and friends that love her and will take care of her.

Well it’s time to go. I prefer to think that you have not gone away, but now you are back out on the farm with Wally and Julie. You and grandma are making a big meal, and sitting down at the table are grandpa, my dad, ruthie, manly, stella, cliff, otto and alma, roald, mildred, ed, dave, and all the others we miss so much. You have all of them out at the farm, you’re feeding them, and maybe after dinner you will have time for a hand or two of gully rummy. And pie…

Someday, we’ll all be back out at the farm together.