My Aunt

Today is my aunt's birthday. She's turning 29. Not really, but that is what we always say about her and my uncle. Her name is Vicky, and when asked who the most beautiful woman in the world is, I would choose her. I used to call her Aunt Mom, because that was sort of our relationship. She was my aunt, but also my mom. Absolutely full of wisdom, a very talented artist. I'm not sure how many hours have been spent sitting around her kitchen table, or the fire pit out back, talking. Beyond count. A lot of the interests I have in things are similar to hers and my uncles. I always joked that I should have been their child, because neither of their daughters share any interests. My uncle, Bob, taught me to love heavy metal music, old cars, the proper way to wash off a kitchen table (hehe)... All the hot wheels cars I have were from him. My aunt showed me kindness, how to have boundaries, the joy of a good book paired with a cup of good coffee and a cigarette, and how a really great conversation can soothe the mind, body and soul.

One of these days, I might post a picture or two of her. Maybe not. I'm not sure how she would feel about that.

And a funny thing about us. We have birthdays exactly a week apart. We were born one hour apart. (1:24 and 2:24 am, and I still don't know which is me!) And our charts are almost exactly mirrored. I'm not very good with astrology (I can come up with a chart, but I haven't figured out how to interpret it into something that is useful), but I would have thought that would make us different... but we're not. I miss her.

When I think of Vicky, I think of long black hair, silver jewelery, patchouli, flowing fabrics, strength, the mingled smells of coffee and cigarettes, books, funny socks...