O Tannenbaum: to my dear Aunt Angie

My parents did the best thing ever for me when they got married: they moved out of the little Pennsylvania town Mom grew up in and settled in Milwaukee instead. Not sure if it was by conscious choice or because of the fact that in the mid-60s, a woman followed her husband as opposed to a man following his bride.

Now, I don't think anything is wrong with that town. I love that place. My family is still from there and around there and I am blessed to have my roots there. I'd be proud to say I was from there. But I'm not. And this is not about that. This is about my surrogate aunt.

"Aunt Angie" was one of my Dad's best friend's wife: they lived right down the hill and across the street from our home growing up. Aunt Angie and Uncle Les were not related by blood, but they were still my aunt and uncle. At that time in the 70s, in the Midwest? Their proper titles: Mr. and Mrs. Ermis? Was too formal. Because they were family, after all. So instead of calling them by that, Mom and Dad told us they were our Aunt and Uncle. Angie and Les were then and will always be my aunt and uncle, and mean as much to me as those who are by bloodlines.

I learned just a few minutes ago now from Uncle Les in an email that Aunt Angie passed away yesterday. It's a blessing and she's in peace now. I just got off the phone with Mom to make sure she knew too; she did. And it got me to thinking about how my "Aunt Angie" was such an amazing, loving substitute for the ones I had living 800 miles away I rarely got to see. She didn't ever try to take the place of them; she just filled the need I didn't have because of geography.

Angie was German-American and spoke in an accent and language sometimes my siblings and I would giggle about respectfully. She could not pronounce my Mom's name, for example: "Dorothy" sounded like "Dordy." We'd decorate cakes for my Mom reading "Happy birthday, Dordy!" and Angie would laugh over it, knowing we weren't mocking her but almost lovingly including her in something silly to laugh about.

I still remember one time when I was in second grade and the church wanted us to learn how to sing "O Christmas Tree" in German. Why? I have no idea. But Mama reminded me then that Aunt Angie was German and so for weeks I went down the hill, across the street and she taught me how to sing "O Tannenbaum" in her language. After weeks of practice, I was so proud to know I could go into our Christmas pageant and actually sing the entire darn song in German.

Unfortunately, no one else bothered to learn it. And I was afraid to sing it on my own. Um, I was in second grade, afterall.

But? I can still sing it now. :-) I took Spanish for 5+ years and can't even speak that as well as I can sing this German song. Because of Aunt Angie.

And I'm going to sing it tonight, whether out loud or in my head...or both. I'm blessed in a million ways to have known her and thank my parents for giving me that. I wonder sometimes still if Mom feels guilty about having to distance me from my biological aunts and uncles because she moved 800 miles away to be with Dad to provide me a better life. I hope she knows, no matter what, that she gave me a huge huge blessing in her sacrifice to allow me to have Aunt Angie in my life too. Rest in peace, my dear, dear Aunt. I look forward to seeing you again someday.