105
Happy birthday in heaven to my Great Aunt L. She would have been 105 today.
I delivered her eulogy on this day 22 years ago. Today I got to thinking about her daughter, my cousin J.
My grandfather used to say J. tripped on the flowers in the rug.
My grandmother called her Sue, because J. would then sue everyone in sight.
My mother called her Boo-Boo Cow. She was a whiny little bitch before Bill Maher coined the term.
I called her Jinx. Her bad luck became yours because she inflicted it on you.
She’s in assisted living now, being catered to and holding court like she always wanted.
If she were out here in the world, she’d be a shit-poster. Instead, she was a shit-talker. And when we’d confront her, she was off to the doctor(s).
She’s killed off two husbands with her toxicity; I hear she is working on a third. Vibrant, loving men, the two I knew. Before she got to them.
Sickness made her say/do everything bad. She’d also say YOU were the one making HER heart palpitate. And don’t you dare claim you aren’t feeling well. She had to “win” that argument, every single time.
I’ll never forget saying to her, hey, maybe don’t stir up so much shit and you won’t hyperventilate so much. I think she ran to the hospital after that comment. The last time, she never left.
In any event, I wonder if J. remembers what today is. Or if she would care any more now than she did when her beautiful momma was still alive.