Edna

My Great Aunt Edna died on July 30. She almost made it to August but no cigar. 94 years old and had been living in an upper crust nursing home in Atlanta, ever since she lost her mind due to dementia. I find it hard to believe she's really gone. I remember rolling down the hill in her backyard in North Carolina, looking enviously through her many closets, lying down on her fancy bed in her fancy house, asking about the history of just about everything she owned and then some. She went everywhere, did everything and anything she wanted to.

The New York times said she was "the only girl who should rhumba.... Edna... a Southern Deb whose ankles are as graceful as her manners". She was called a "beauty, a mermaid, a one and only". During the 20s, 30s, and 40s, she modeled to help her family deal with the Depression. She and her sisters and brother lived in a great old pre-war building on 55th and 5th avenue. She never would have dreamed of leaving without gloves and a hat on. On the beach she wore a striped swimming suit that was about as skimpy as they allowed at the time. Two of my great-aunts modeled, but Edna did more shoes- she had a perfect size 7 foot with narrow heels and trim ankles. She wore Lilly before and during its coolest phase, Gucci and Chanel becuase they were the best.

She spent weekends in Central Park while she was dating various boys, listening to bandstand music, then moved out to Long Island when she married a highly respected New York physician and really came into her own. They had one child, whom they adored. She seemed to adore everyone. I liked what my cousin wrote about her, that "there was ever only one Edna. We called her beautiful. She was gracious and charming, yet so completely satisfied with herself." I can only hope to acheive that kind of status towards teh end of my life. She gave money as much as she spent money. She cared about everyone and knew everything about the family. Or at least she seemed to.

Which brings me to a more interesting question. that is, a question of family. I wonder how many really ineresting stories have been lost in the last two decades because no one cared enough to listen to the them when they ewre being told or record them for future generations. Edna's son said something about how much has been lost with her death, and even before when she was slipping inot what we were sure was Alzheimer's. It is a sad thing, that so much hitory has been destroyed simply because people wanted to keep their secrets. I can only hope to be more open than that with my nieces and nephews and if I ever have a family of my own. I used to love hearing her stories of how things came to be in my family. Now that voice is silenced and no one ever wants to talk about what happened to my family after the civil war, or how we lost everything we had been given. And so the silence travels to the grave.