"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
Love leaves a memory no one can steal."
One thing I know for sure about my great Aunt Erma: she
loved God, baseball and me…and not necessarily in that order.
I have so many wonderful memories of her. Many memories
revolve around sporting events, church and food. All memories include lots of
love, laughter and life.
I remember Aunt Erma saying, “There are two things you
should never be late for: church and a ballgame.” We used to laugh that she
went to church every day of the week, except for Sunday. “That’s the day
everyone else goes.” she would say. As an avid and passionate sports fan, her
TVs were always synchronized to broadcast the latest game. When we would attend
a Penn State football game or Philles baseball game together—on time, of course—Aunt
Erma would admire the player’s talent, while I admired the greatness that was a
guy in uniform. And let’s face it, she did too.
Aunt Erma was a world traveler, collecting experiences,
photographs and even friendships that she shared with us when she returned
home. I always admired her quest for
exploration and her interest in discovering new cultures, languages and
traditions. I relished the stories she told me about kissing the Blarney Stone
in Ireland, touring the pyramids in Egypt and hating the fish they served her
for dinner in Russia.
Aunt Erma was a delicious baker and she would always indulge
us with her famous treats: peanut butter and chocolate chip scones (mine),
Jewish apple cake (my dad’s), peanut butter tandy cakes (my brother’s),
chocolate chip cookies (my mom’s) and sour cream apple pie (everyone’s favorite!).
Aunt Erma sat in the front row of some of the most important
days of my life. She was my confirmation sponsor in eighth grade, she helped me
move into my very first apartment and then later, my very first house, and she
was always there to console me during times of loss and sorrow and to cheer me
on during times of success and joy. But I
also enjoyed many every day moments with her, such as splitting a gallon of ice
cream for dinner when I visited her in Summit Hill over the summer, attending Penn
State tailgates where she would cast off her beverages to my underage self not
knowing they were alcoholic, and baking with her during a SNAFU with the mixer
that resulted in icing the entirety of my parent’s kitchen.
I treasure the moments I shared with my dear Aunt Erma. It’s
difficult to say goodbye to her today, for I will miss the new memories we would
have created together. But I will cherish the moments that have made such a
lasting impression on the young girl I was and the woman I am today.
Thank you, Aunt Erma, for sharing your sense of humor, your
passion for adventure and your child-like spirit with us.
We love you, and you will be greatly missed, until we meet
again.
Rest in peace.
Love,
~~
.jpg)
