November 20, 2020
November 20, 2020
For me, Aunt Bev has always meant family. When I think about my earliest memories of her, they are of warm hugs, Oreo cookies, yummy hot dogs, and the fun I had swimming and staying up late watching movies while visiting her, Scott, and Melissa as a child. Mind you, these were visits that were by no means to be taken for granted— remember that by the time I can remember anything, Randy had already moved on. Aunt Bev stayed— no matter what. That’s one of the things I remember finding so extraordinary about her as a young adult— she never wavered, whether it was in including us in Scott and Melissa’s lives as we all grew up or including Randy’s daughter Stefanie in her Christmas Party (as hard as that must’ve been) in 2016— Aunt Bev was always family.
I’ve often wondered if it was perhaps because of what I presumed was her undying love for my Uncle (she never remarried and was at least as distraught at his funeral as anyone else) or her partnership with my grandmother Anna Marie “Honey”— they ran her first store Gumbo together back when I was a kid. Regardless, I was always clear that whatever the status of her relationship with my Uncle, we were family.
Whenever I would hear about who she was from her clients and customers though, it was clear to me: Aunt Bev was the living embodiment of family wherever she went. She was always there for people as much as she possibly could be. It came as little surprise when I discovered at that same Christmas Party that Aunt Bev and I shared something very special— the distinction of being Landmark Forum graduates. When I realized that, everything clicked into place. Whatever demons she wrestled with internally, whatever triggers, upsets, disappointments, or tragedies she experienced; Aunt Bev was always committed to the possibility of love and family, and that came through in every interaction I ever had with her.
From her trip to Steamboat for our son’s baptism in July 2017 to the delicious culinary treats that she’d poured her heart into over the years; her big smile and warm hugs; and her patient, engaged listening to me while I regaled her with my knowledge of health and personalized nutrition— her love shone through in each interaction, in every moment… even unto the last. As I was leaving Houston this summer after my last opportunity to spend time with her (what a gift!), she looked straight into my eyes and said, clear as day, “I love you.” I like to think that was for all of us. To all of us who’ve loved her and to all those whom she loved. She loves us, and that love is one I hope we all cherish and I believe she would have us pass on to those in our lives in remembrance of her and of the possibility of love and family that she was for all of us.
I’ve often wondered if it was perhaps because of what I presumed was her undying love for my Uncle (she never remarried and was at least as distraught at his funeral as anyone else) or her partnership with my grandmother Anna Marie “Honey”— they ran her first store Gumbo together back when I was a kid. Regardless, I was always clear that whatever the status of her relationship with my Uncle, we were family.
Whenever I would hear about who she was from her clients and customers though, it was clear to me: Aunt Bev was the living embodiment of family wherever she went. She was always there for people as much as she possibly could be. It came as little surprise when I discovered at that same Christmas Party that Aunt Bev and I shared something very special— the distinction of being Landmark Forum graduates. When I realized that, everything clicked into place. Whatever demons she wrestled with internally, whatever triggers, upsets, disappointments, or tragedies she experienced; Aunt Bev was always committed to the possibility of love and family, and that came through in every interaction I ever had with her.
From her trip to Steamboat for our son’s baptism in July 2017 to the delicious culinary treats that she’d poured her heart into over the years; her big smile and warm hugs; and her patient, engaged listening to me while I regaled her with my knowledge of health and personalized nutrition— her love shone through in each interaction, in every moment… even unto the last. As I was leaving Houston this summer after my last opportunity to spend time with her (what a gift!), she looked straight into my eyes and said, clear as day, “I love you.” I like to think that was for all of us. To all of us who’ve loved her and to all those whom she loved. She loves us, and that love is one I hope we all cherish and I believe she would have us pass on to those in our lives in remembrance of her and of the possibility of love and family that she was for all of us.