I got a call over the weekend from my mother about Aunt Aldea. Aunt Aldea is the younger sister of my maternal grandmother and is the last of her generation. She was born in December 1910 and is still with us. The last few years have not been a friend to her as she is now living in a nursing home; she lives with congestive heart failure (CHF), renal (kidney) failure, anorexia, and arteriosclerosis. Because of the limited blood flow she has a necrotic toe that will turn into gangrene if not treated. If it hasn’t happened already a vascular surgeon will examine her to see what can be done. As someone who has worked for hospice for over 9 years, my response is for the love of God, let her go but I’m not the one who decides. The doctors are having a hard time with her because even the tests they want to do are too invasive for her, but they hope to have a plan later in the week.

Aunt Aldea’s husband (Uncle Bill) died on January 9, 1981. Between his death and funeral Aunt Aldea made a dress for her to wear at the funeral. This says as much about her as anything. It’s hard to hear that such a strong woman is going through this, and I pray she passes with dignity and peace. You can see pictures of her here and here.

It was 39 years ago today that Dr. King was assassinated on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. Tennessee. I lived in Memphis in 1994 and could walk from my home to the motel. After the assassination the motel continued to operate for several years; by the time I lived there it was vacant. It’s now the Civil Rights Museum and a must see on any trip to Memphis (after Graceland of course).

Yesterday I neglected to recall that it was the 2nd anniversary of the death of Pope John Paul II (1920-2005). He and I didn’t agree on everything but he was a larger than life presence in the Church and I doubt if I’ll ever see a Pope who served as long (over 26 years) or had as much of an impact on the world. Today is also the anniversary of the death of my grandmother, Emma Allain (1887-1988). She was a woman of deep faith and it was appropriate that she died on Easter Sunday. She was 73 when I was born and the whole time I knew her she was almost blind; it prevented her from reading but always had her rosary with her. You can see her wedding picture from 1918.