Heading back to the midwest

Last week I received an email from my sister, who had heard from a cousin, that my aunt, who is around the 95 year marker, isn't doing well.  She had been in the hospital for pneumonia and although home now her heart was weaker and she was slower.  She is my father's sister, the oldest of four children.  She is the only child still here, having outlived her three brothers.  She tells me that is hard.  She still hears her back door open sometimes and thinks she will hear my father call out to her, "Hey Sis!".  I understood that.  I too still hear his voice and sometimes smell his cigars.

On Tuesday she sat by her eldest son's hospital bed and watched him die.  He has fought poor lungs for years.  She told him to quit smoking.  "Those cigarettes are no good.  I told him for years, but..." she would pause, shaking her head at today's youth, "he wouldn't listen.  I just worry for him so.  He is in so much pain."  He isn't now. 

I'm in Indiana today for my cousin's funeral.  I wanted to be here for my aunt.  She has always been there for me.  She came to my high school graduation.  She came to my wedding.  She bought me Christmas presents when I was younger and recently gave me her chicken dumpling recipe.  I feel a calling to see her now.  She has rallied and lived through many hardships, but I don't know if she can get past all that has happened in the last month.  It is important sometimes to just drop everything and tell those you care about how much you love them.  I plan on doing that this weekend.