At the close of the day on April 30th, I turned my calendar to May. For nearly four weeks now, it has been staring me in the face, reminding me. I write birthdays on my calendar so I won’t forget to send a card. In May, I have a son, a sister, and two grandchildren with birthdays, and on May 27th, Aunt Carolyn. For the first time in my adult life, I will not be sending her a birthday card, because she left us in March.
I don’t send birthday cards to all my relatives. There are too many of them. I limit my greetings to my children and grandchildren, sisters and brothers, and my mother. Not other aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins. There are too many of them. But Aunt Carolyn was different.
She never married, had no children, but family connections were important to her. She sent gifts to each of my children when they were born and wedding presents when they got married. She also sent birthday cards, religiously. I received one from her every year, and every year, I made sure to send her one.
In my memories of Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa Masters, she and her younger brother, my Uncle Joe, teenagers at the time, would give me and my siblings each a present. It was the same every time: a coloring book, crayons, and modeling clay. These gifts, although predictable, were always appreciated.
Aunt Carolyn’s graduation picture
Then she went off to college, the first one in the family to do so. I remember once accompanying my grandparents when they took her down to Ladycliff, an all-women’s college right next door to West Point. A good place to grab a husband, you’d think, but she wasn’t interested. She went on to earn a Masters Degree in Social Work at Fordham University. (Grampa joked that she already had a Masters degree.) She was the first woman in the family with a career outside the home.
After we moved to Florida, I didn’t see Aunt Carolyn that often. When we visited my grandparents, she was usually in New York City where she lived in a tiny efficiency apartment. Occasionally, she flew south to visit us, and I went to NYC a few times. I remember touring museums with her. We also rode the Staten Island Ferry (that’s another story). When my boys were small, she accompanied us to the Statue of Liberty. We climbed into the crown, but Aunt Carolyn stopped halfway and sat in an alcove until we rejoined her. She wasn’t much for physical activity, until she had a wake-up call later in life. Then she began to walk regularly for her health.
She never failed to attend the annual Masters Family reunion in Owego, NY. I didn’t always make it, but when I did, I got to see her there.
The Masters family. She’s the redhead center back.
Aunt Carolyn was different from the rest of the family. Most of us are country people, but she loved New York City. She worked there as a social worker for over 50 years, not retiring until she was in her upper seventies. She was active in her church and had many friends.
On 9-11, I called to check on her. She lamented that she had intended to buy my son a wedding present on her lunch hour, but unfortunately, the store was no longer there. Where had she intended to shop? At the World Trade Center! The thought still sends shivers down my spine. I was so glad she didn’t go shopping before she went to work.
She was a very particular person. When she wrote a letter, if she made a mistake, she’d neatly cross it out and surround it with parentheses, then continue in her perfect handwriting. She loved literature and art and Shakespeare in the Park. She was also very opinionated. When I was in college, I’d make a remark about something, a particular poem, or a piece of art. In a calm, perhaps condescending, tone, she’d correct me. The funny things is, as I matured, I realized she’d been right. Her relatives loved her, but she did try their patience.
In later years.
This month, whenever I sent out cards, her address would pop out at me in the address book. How many times have I recopied her address from one outdated book to another, even though I had it memorized? When the current book needs to be replaced, there will be no need to copy her address again, and that saddens me.
You don’t know how much you will miss a person until they’re gone. I’m glad I sent her a card every year.
Happy Birthday, Aunt Carolyn. This year I’ll send you love, if not a card.
marieqrogers 