So last week I got news that my Aunt’s brother has passed away. They’re not blood related to me. She’s an Aunt by marriage. Not like that matters.
Her brother, “Frank” has come to many family to-do’s over the years. I’ve known him my whole life. Good man, widowed, his wife passed away in 2000. They did not have children so he was somewhat active in his nieces and nephews lives. He was always very opinionated, filled with facts and loved to dish them out. And loved being a tour guide in New York City.
So my Aunt and her grown children (my first cousins) came up from Florida to Brooklyn to say goodbye and lay him to rest.
So I offered my place for some to stay. I have a one bedroom apartment, not a tiny postage stamp, but not huge. So my cousin with whom I share a first name, let’s call him “Big Rex” stayed over with his wife of 29 years.
Big Rex and I have bonded somewhat over the past ten years. He lives in Florida, but I see them when I see my parents. And we’re both all over Facebook.
I picked them up at the airport, gave them my bed with brand new sheets. Ate some good pizza and bagels, had some beer. Bullshat about the family and other stuff. He’s a opinionated talker too, like his uncle and his mom, though he won’t admit it.
I don’t have much space or stuff. They could have easily rented a car, stayed with our mutual aunt on Long Island, or got a hotel room. But I stepped up. Made things easier for them. And it’s was great spending time with him and his wife.
PS Frank, RIP, had planned that after hours own funeral that we’d go to a certain restaurant in Coney Island. Even in death, still being a tour guide.
PSS They went home tonight, I drove them to JFK airport. It was great having them over but I’ll admit, it’ll be nice to sleep in my own bed.
And I’ll enjoy NOT sitting on a warm toilet seat.