Aunt Dee: The last link to my past
Today, I lost my Aunt Dee, and with her, one more piece of my past. She was 93 years old, and all day, memories have been surfacing. This may come across as pretty raw, and that would be true.
First of all, the age gap. I used to think she was so much older than I. That generation between us felt vast. And now, today, the math feels totally different. 20 years. A blink.
The rawness I feel mostly comes from realizing that nobody who came before me in my family is left. My mother died in 2005, my father in 2009, so I’ve had plenty of time to get used to this last-one-standing feeling. Dee’s passing comes after both my younger sisters have gone before me. I’m the only one left who knew me as a kid. I have no one left to check my stories with.
I feel a bit of urgency to get these memories written down while I still can, and to share these images.
Dee had a big impact on me in my teens. As an ally and advocate, she supported me and showed me the importance of standing up for others. This lesson has influenced my interactions and decisions throughout my life. Behind my parents’ backs, she helped me get a birth control prescription, empowering me to make decisions about my own body and future. This was the ‘60s. I was never going to get the required consent from my parents, but I got auntie-consent.
Dee was single for a long time. I might not remember perfectly, but I think she was deep into her 40s when she married Art, the guy you see in these photos. Remember, this was mid-century, and the idea of Dee moving out on her own was a hard No for a long time for my grandparents. So she lived at her parents’ one-bedroom apartment in Borough Park, Brooklyn. She slept on a single bed in the hallway right on the other side of their bedroom door.
Somehow she finally got my grandfather to get her a place of her own. I think my grandparents realized that moving out of the neighborhood might expand her options, and Dee getting married was on everybody’s mind.
Her move from Brooklyn to an Upper West Side studio apartment showed me the possibility of independence and self-reliance, planting the seeds of my own escape plan. I was incredibly impressed as a 16- or 17-year-old trapped under my parents’ strict domination. My badass aunt!
Dee’s aesthetic, finally unleashed, was a mashup of Mary Tyler Moore/That Girl single-girl-makes-good, with as much sophistication as a recent escapee from the outer boroughs could imagine. She separated her living dining area from her bedroom area with a shoji screen, extremely exotic, to my naive eyes. She had a galley kitchen in which she cooked soufflés, also extremely exotic.
I didn’t get to have a close relationship with Dee for long. From this vantage point today, I am really grateful for the memory of just how much she helped me grow up.
With Dee’s passing, I’m glad to preserve and share these memories, to honor her legacy and keep our family's history alive. Though I’m now the only one left who remembers those early days, I carry with me the strength, independence, and compassion that Aunt Dee embodied for me at a time when it mattered a lot to see her step into the world. I’m the last link, and I’m grateful I can create new connections and stories for my kid, my sister’s kids, and those who are yet to come.
As I reflect on Aunt Dee's life and the profound influence she had on me, I invite you to share a memory of a loved one who's made an impact on your life. Whether it's a lesson learned or a cherished moment, your stories help preserve our family histories. Let's honor their legacies and create connections that span across time. I look forward to hearing from you in the comments.
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