gone

This may seem a little selfish, but please keep my family in your prayers. I got a call from dad at 5:15 this evening; Aunt Annie passed away about 4:45. She was Uncle Art's wife, my grandpa's sister-in-law. My grandfater's siblings included: Him (Ray) (d), Art (d), Jane (d), Sr. Raymonda (d), Fern (d), Dorothy (d), Sr. Pat, Clarence, and Sr. Mary Helen.

Annie was probably one of the nicest, sweetest, craziest old ladies I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. All her stories from the family's past were hilarious antedotes, and no matter how many times I heard them, they were all still as funny as the first time. Getting chased by wild hogs at the family farm, or accidentally crawling into bed with Uncle Clarence, telling her friend to pray to St. Poopadoopalus when she was constipated, or coming back to see me before the wedding and exclaiming, "You have boobs!!!"

She used to tease grandma, "Edna, remember when we used to do those high kicks?" My grandma would always deny it with a shake of her head, "Annie, we never used to do high kicks," but she always had this little smirk on her face that I never quite understood. After grandma passed away a few years ago, one of the family members found an old old picture of her and Annie, arms around each other's shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, and right legs kicked up. I had a moment in the car last night while Dustin and I were driving home: I was tearing up over a song that was playing on the radio, but at the same time I started giggling. When he asked what I was laughing at, I turned and asked him, "Do you think grandma and Annie are doing high kicks together in heaven?" He answered, "I'm sure they are."

Keep kickin' gals. We'll miss you Annie, and we love you.