I’ve been thinking about my aunt Rita a lot lately.
She died of cancer four days after my 8th birthday and four months after my Abuela’s death, her mom.
My Mom recalled and told a story from her youth to me. My Abuela was getting plumbing work done from a neighbor and friend of the family. He was a Canadian-Indian man who spoke broken English with a very thick accent. He was gruff.
He ended up doing work in the bathroom and had my Abuela corral all of the kids. He wanted to speak to the kids (My aunts and uncles). My Mom is one of nine kids. Mr. Giasson asked all of the kids their names. Once he got to my aunt Rita and after she answered, he said, “So, you’re the mean one.“
My aunt was just a teenager then but she unapologetically and without hesitation simply said, “Yes, I am.” I laughed when my Mom told me this story. I told her that maybe I get my feistiness from my aunt! My mom assures me that I get it from my Dad.
For anyone who has known both of my Parents, I am more like my Dad than like my Mom. I once told my Mom that I wished I was more like her and she simply replied, “Yeah.” Like my Dad, I also, “Don’t take nothing off nobody!”
I loved my aunt Rita so much and hearing this story makes me love and miss her even more! It’s only now that I am a grown-up can I really know and appreciate just how strong of a woman she was and the fact that she was unapologetically, “The mean one.”