Aunt Lalena

Aunt Lalena

     Miles had never felt close to his Aunt Lalena, but it struck him driving to her house that every interaction he had ever had with her was positive. Though he had generally only seen her at big family get-togethers, it now occurred to him that she had always been unfailingly kind, pleasant, an avid listener, supportive of whatever he said, and never intrusive. He was particularly grateful for all the times she quietly sought him out at family events when he was at his most adolescently awkward to ask how he was doing, encourage him, and make him feel like he had at least one confirmed fan among his extended family clan.

     Unlike all his other aunts and uncles who married and had children, Aunt Lalena was the family’s old maid who lived alone. He winced at how seldom he and his family had visited her, preferring instead the company of kin whose houses were full of cousins. In conversations with relatives over the years, Aunt Lalena was the most often missing and least often mentioned.

     Now she was quite old and dying. Though Miles had dreaded the two-hour drive to say goodbye, he knew he would feel guilty if he failed to go. Even though he understood she was now usually asleep, he could still visit with the relatives who were looking after her. He could also listen to music en route and reminisce about a relation who he had never really thought much about.

     It seemed to him that Aunt Lalena bore a heavy load of shyness. She got on well with everyone but appeared close to none. In a large family tree full of loud and lively branches, hers was decidedly still and quiet. Though she would immediately smile and reply when spoken to, she remained a mostly silent figure in the background, always an extra or, at best, a bit or supporting player. No one had an unkind word to say about such an eternally gracious lady, but Aunt Lalena’s life defined inconspicuous: an assistant at her local public library, a dutiful attendee at church, and a modest presence at family gatherings. 

     She lived alone with her cat in an immaculately well-kept, small home. Miles recalled when, growing up, his family had stopped by her house for a quick, unannounced visit on the way back from somewhere and Aunt Lalena saw him admiring her rolltop desk. She apologized for how “messy” the antique was despite it being far more orderly than his family’s rolltop and her not knowing they would visit that day. But, as Aunt Lalena liked to say, “It’s always good to see you.” 

     Though she had a ready smile, he tried to recall ever seeing her laugh boisterously or lose herself in animated conversation. On the plus side, of all his many aunts and uncles, only Aunt Lalena had never inflicted unwanted advice upon her nephews and nieces, but he and his cousins still saw her as too proper to confide in when they did not want to talk with their parents about something. Maybe we just didn’t give her a chance, he wondered. Perhaps she would have welcomed being included in some family secrets. That might have spiced up her overly dull plotline. Was hers a train wreck of a tragically lonely life, and did I contribute to that loneliness by not visiting her more? He sighed, nearing her home.

     And now it’s all too late, he reflected. At least everyone loved her, he tried to comfort himself while feeling weird to think of her in the past tense. He hoped she knew how loved she was and, though she had lived her entire adult life by herself, Miles was grateful that a few relations were staying with her around the clock, along with hospice nurses, so that she could remain home and not die alone. And she was very old, he consoled himself. Who wants to reach the stage when having a bowel movement counts as an achievement? he rationalized.

     Pulling into Aunt Lalena’s driveway, he marveled at her spotless and still shiny twenty-five-year-old car. But he got a little nervous at the sight of a pair of other cars. In a contemplative mood, he wanted to spend time alone with his dying aunt and dreaded sharing their final moments together with others, especially since there was a lot he wanted to say in confidence. 

     At the front porch door, he was greeted by one of Aunt Lalena’s sisters, his Aunt Amoreena, and her daughter Zelia, nicknamed Zelie, a favorite cousin. 

     “Well, nephew, dog if you ain’t absolutely ageless,” Aunt Amoreena exclaimed after a big hug and kiss. “You Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, are you? Boy, you don’t even look thirty.”

     “With all due respect, Aunt Amoreena,” he replied, “I believe you may need to see your eye doctor. When I turn around, y’all can see my rapidly expanding bald spot too. Actually, I’m 39 plus considerable interest.”

     “Well, Cuz, you sure hide it well,” Cousin Zelia remarked while embracing him.

     “How’s Aunt Lalena?” he asked gently.

     “Well,” Aunt Amoreena sighed, “she’s holding steady. She’s always had such a quiet strength. She hasn’t spoken in a couple of days and just sleeps, but she seems comfortable.”

     “I sure hope she’s not in any pain,” he stated as a question. “Oh, good Lord, no, child.” Aunt Amoreena chuckled. “She’s so doped up on morphine that the nurses say there ain’t no way she’s hurting any. Come on back to the bedroom and sit with her a spell. We just bathed and changed her.”

     “Oh, gosh. Is she decent? I don’t want to intrude,” he noted.

     “Oh, sure, shug.” His aunt laughed.

     The bedroom was dark except for a little lamp turned on by the bed to reveal Aunt Lalena asleep with a cross around her neck and her mouth slightly ajar. Her arms lay by her side above the covers, and her nightgown looked a couple of sizes too big. 

     “Have a seat, darling,” Aunt Amoreena said motioning to the bedside chair. “Zelie and I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything.”

     Seated alone with his least obtrusive relative, he looked at Aunt Lalena, not sure what to say or do. He was taken aback by the hollowness of her cheeks and how bony her hands had become. He was further struck by several moles on her forehead not noticed before.

     “Aunt Lalena,” he mustered in a voice slightly above a whisper as he leaned toward her, “it’s your nephew Miles.” He paused. “I hope you can hear or understand me.” 

     There was no movement on the bed or any change in her expression. He looked at the walls to see traditional paintings of rural landscapes, embroidered Biblical scriptures and crosses, and framed pictures of various kin. Not knowing what to say, he slowly reached over to hold her left hand. When her fingers wrapped around his, he started slightly.

     “Can you hear me, Aunt Lalena?” he asked excitedly, but there was no reply. He thought of all the things he had ever wondered about her, like whether she had ever dated, done anything wild, or what she really thought of certain obnoxious relatives behind that placid smile. He also recalled the last time he was left alone with her as a boy one afternoon and feeling nervous making small talk amidst the quiet.

     He was startled when his aunt’s black cat jumped on the bed, looked at him, nestled against his aunt’s side, and soon began to purr. Miles returned his gaze to his aunt’s face. Reminding himself that he would never get another chance to talk with her, and reassured that no one else could hear, he finally spoke.

     “Aunt Lalena, I’m real sorry you’ve had such a terribly tough time of late, and I’m right sorry I haven’t visited you sooner. I hope Aunt Amoreena told you I called, and hopefully she read my letter to you. Actually, truth be told, Aunt Lalena, I’m sorry I didn’t – haven’t – visited you more all along. You’ve always been the most consistently kind—”

     He stopped to avoid crying, looking at her closed eyes and motionless, emaciated body. Moving his tongue around his mouth, he then spoke again.

     “Aunt Lalena, now that I think back, you may be the sweetest relative I’ve ever known, always with a friendly word and never moody, bringing your ever-delicious sweet potato pie to family reunions, sending a card every birthday, coming to all my graduations, and even driving all the way over to visit me when I was in the hospital—” 

     He quickly turned away and blinked several times before swallowing and taking a deep breath.

     “You’ve just always been there for everyone, Aunt Lalena,” he whispered before clearing his throat. “Whenever we all got together or anyone needed anything, you were there.” He paused and noticed one wall was full of pictures of their relatives, including his family’s church portrait and graduation pictures of himself and all his siblings and cousins. He looked back at her and swallowed.

     “Thank you, Aunt Lalena. Thank you ever so much for all you’ve done for each of us – for all your love…. And we all love you, Aunt Lalena. I love you too….” 

     He squeezed her hand gently and felt no response. He felt the urge to blow his nose but refrained.

     Not knowing what else to say, and knowing how faithful his aunt was, he decided to pray, recalling the time when he was little that she had recited his bedtime prayers with him.

     Now holding her hand in both of his with his head bowed, he spoke softly.

     “Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you on behalf of one of the finest servants of yours I’ve ever known. Thank you very much for all your blessings for dear Aunt Lalena. Indeed, you’ve given her a mighty long and super respectful life, a life rich in service to others, a life defined by selflessness. In fact, she’s always been such an example for us all. Dear Lord, she really needs you now, and we beseech thee to please grant her peace and tranquility as she prepares to meet you. Thank you for the wonderfully inspiring life of love and service that she has given us all, and please ease her transition into your kingdom. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.”

     Miles slowly raised his head and looked at the blank face before him. He noted her steady breathing and then heard the cat purring. Looking at the cat, he caught himself smile and quickly stifled it, blinking and turning back to his aunt.

     “I wish I could hold hands with your thoughts, Aunt Lalena.”

     Unable to think of anything else to say, he surveyed the room one last time before gazing at his aunt’s face. Though filled with sadness at what he feared may have been an unfulfilled life lived alone, as well as much regret for not having been a bigger part of it, he felt a sense of calm entirely absent when he arrived. He slowly leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

     “Love you, Aunt Lalena,” he said as he released her hand and stood. Looking back seemed anticlimactic, so he did not. Instead, he slowly left the room, gently closing the door behind him.

     He could not remember the subsequent small talk with Aunt Amoreena and Cousin Zelia, but knew it was all cheerful and that they thanked him for coming. It was comforting to learn that many other relatives had visited as well, and he hoped Aunt Lalena knew it.

     On the drive home, he did not play music for a long time. Instead, he tried hard to rewind and play back all his memories of Aunt Lalena from earliest childhood forward. He wanted to believe she really had been happy behind all the sweet smiles at family gatherings. He wished he had known her better and that she had made a family of her own. But who am I to say she wasn’t content as she was? he asked. With all the stressful drama in so many of our relations’ lives, including mine, who’s to say hers wasn’t a model of serene stability? It’s all past tense now anyway. Surely if there’s a just God, she’s Heaven-bound. If Aunt Lalena doesn’t qualify, who does? So, however happy or unhappy she was, she’ll soon be in Heaven or at least completely free of all pain and loneliness.

     He stared in the distance a long time before making a resolution.

     Never refrain from telling someone I love her and appreciate her, and go visit her because… “it’s always good to see you.”

Biography: Douglas Young is an author and professor emeritus whose essays, poems, and short stories have appeared in a variety of publications in America, Canada, Europe, and Asia. His first novel, Deep in the Forest, was published in 2021 and the second, Due South, came out in 2022. His first book of essays, This Little Opinion Plus $1.50 Will Buy You a Coke, appeared in 2024, and the second, Not Just Political, was published in 2025.

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/brown-wooden-2-drawer-chest-beside-brown-sofa-chair-Hl3fvUU48Lw) 18. 10. 2025.

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