My Aunt Dorothy, or "Dot" as her close friends and family call her, is a gem. She is 70-years old now, never married, although I just don't understand that, unless it was a matter of supply and demand. She is a lovely woman, with a wicked sense of humor that was lost on the largely prim, Presbyterian population where she lives. She has laughing grey eyes, she is slim, hearty and giving. She teaches a progressive youth-group class at the West Eagle Creek Church, where the average age of a youth-group attendee is between 55 and 70 years of age. She still sneaks a fag (cigarette) and likes a little "cocktail" on the sly, but just once in awhile.
Aunt Dot dated a guy once when I was young. His name was "Dick", and he was a scandal! He openly smoked, said bad words, and drank beer. It was rumored that he was actually married to someone else, though there was never any proof. I often wished that Dick had married Dot, but then who is to say how that might have turned out. I have never asked Aunt Dorothy about him.
Dot finally retired. She worked for over 50 years at the same factory painting plastic parts for autos and assorted electronic devices and microwave appliances. She bowls on two bowling leagues, and takes little trips here and there and, as she recently told me in a letter:
"I have a 1000 pc puzzle on my kitchen table. About 1/3 done. If Jaunita (my other Aunt) doesn't come Sunday and help with it I'm putting it back in the box." Later, in her Valentines' Day letter to me, she says, "A woman just moved to here from another town. She is divorced and has two sons. Maybe I can chum around with her. Her name is Dorothy. I hope she is happier than my neighbor lady that is twice divorced. I'll see."
I am missing my Aunt Dorothy tonight. Because while she might seem simple in words and in her activities and expectations, I remember her absolute "life force" of joy, and fun, and twinkle impish sense of humor. My Dad has this trait too. She also sent me a copy of the Centennial Farm Certificate she recently received for the farm I am so fortunate to have spent summers and school vacations on, in Ohio. I am missing that it is probably not possible that she would ever visit me here, because she would be, aside from my mother, the one person who would find absolute joy in the culture of Chile.
Dot Dot Dot! Love ya!