We got the news yesterday that Aunt Annie passed away. She's been fighting cancer for years now.
I only met Annie once. Amos told me later that she was weak from the chemo. I found her fun, charming, energetic... but I hadn't known her before.
We stopped at the house and walked up to the front door. Amos knocked once, twice. I was looking out over the beautiful flowers surrounding the walk. My gaze swung back to the door as the knob turned. I heard a yelp before the door completely opened and for some reason I knew to look down. I reached out and caught the little white furball before it slid between our feet.
I stood up, holding the puppy in my arms and met the gaze of Aunt Annie.
Thin, smiling, sweet. "Oh, thank you." She exclaimed, taking the puppy from my arms. "I just got him and he's not quite trained yet."
Just the fact that she got a new puppy while going through chemo, tells you something about her.
We sat in her living room. It was decorated warmly. It matched her.
We talked. We laughed. We didn't stay too long, she needed to rest.
She kissed my cheek when we left. Thanked us for coming.
A few weeks later we got a gift. A little wooden chair. It sits in my office, next to the children's books.
Someday I'm going to have a little girl and name her Annie. When she's big enough, I'll let her sit in the chair and tell her about when her Daddy was a little boy and went to visit his Aunt Annie and sat on that very same chair.
