The Land of the Midnight Sun

Well, I've been a ball of sunshine lately, haven't I? It's official. I have the winter blues. Thank God February is almost over, this really might be my least favorite month. Even though it's the shortest, it seems to go on forever. January has some holiday spill over, March has St. Patty's day and it starts to get warm in April, but February is just a big blank period of cold, dreary nothing. Yuck.

Things other than the weather have been contributing to my mood, but they'd be a hell of a lot easier to deal with if it was 75 degrees and sunny. I was supposed to leave for Alaska tomorrow (not exactly the tropics, I know), but that isn't happening anymore and I'm kind of sad about it.

My Aunt Dorothy, my grandmother's sister, had been very sick for quite some time when she asked my grandma to come visit. However, it was asked that my grandfather not accompany her. My grandparents have been to Alaska several times over the years, but my grandfather can be a little difficult to handle if you don't have to love him because you're related to him. Don't get me wrong, he's an awesome guy and I love him to death (not just because I have to), but he can be an ornery old man who's set in his ways and yells a lot. He's also Italian. With my great aunt's weakened condition and the emotional stress on her family, I just don't think they were prepared to deal with a visit from Uncle Frank.

So, my mom and I were going to take my grandmother to see her sister in Anchorage. Aunt Dorothy's three daughters even donated air miles, so the trip was paid for. It was going to be 10 days of adventure and bonding with some pretty incredible women in the Last Frontier. And then two weeks before we were to leave, Aunt Dorothy had a stroke. She hung on for a few days, but she wasn't really there, and she passed away on February 13, four days after her 83rd birthday.

I wasn't expecting the emotions that I felt after I got the news. I met Aunt Dorothy a few times on her visits to Buffalo, but I was young and don't really remember it. What I do remember vividly, and always will, are the stories my grandparents told about their trips to Alaska. They'd come back with tales about beautiful wildflowers growing on the side of the road, breathtaking glaciers, ice-capped mountains and moose roaming the streets. It all sounded so cool.

What I really loved hearing about though, were the stories they'd tell about the people. My aunt, her three daughters, their husbands and children and grandchildren. I have a connection to this whole clan 4,000 miles away and I've never met most of them. I don't even really know much about them, but I'm so incredibly interested. I want to know who they really are, what their personalities are like, what their relationships with each other are like, what they like to do. I want to know them like family and I was so looking forward to the chance to finally do that.

From what I do know about my Aunt Dorothy, she was a really cool lady. She moved to Anchorage in the 1970s with her husband Paul, an air force pilot. She worked as a Rosie the Riveter during WWII on the B-29 bombers that her husband was flying. She fearlessly left behind her entire family in Buffalo and built a new life in Alaska. That's quite a task.

I think part of the intrigue for me, especially when it came to wanting to get to know Aunt Dorothy, was that it provided a little window to my grandmother's past. I know my grandma as Nana, that's what I call her. I made it up when I was little and that's what she's always been to me. The only other name I've heard her answer to is Geri or Geraldine, which my grandfather calls her, or Mom. But everyone in Alaska calls her Sissy. That's what all of her brothers and sisters called her, and my aunt's kids know her as Aunt Sissy. It kind of blows my mind that there's this whole other personality she has that I know nothing about. She's MY grandmother, I'm her only granddaughter, and I know nothing about Sissy. I want to know.

Nana is very, very protective of her family, which makes her a little suspicious of anyone that isn't me, my grandfather, mom, dad or brother. She would bend over backwards for us and has, many times, but anyone else can forget it. We joke that she thinks everyone is out to get her, especially the cashier at the grocery store that overcharges her a nickel for a head of lettuce. It's kind of true though.

I've seen her interact with her youngest brother Jim and his family, who live in Orchard Park, and she's good with them. I see the nicer, gentler side of her with them, the personality that I grew up with. I wanted to watch her interact with her family in Alaska. She always speaks so lovingly about Patty, Susan, Terri (Aunt Dorothy's daughters) and their families. Aunt Sissy must be the same wonderful, giving woman to them that my Nana is to me.

It makes me really sad that we were all robbed of the time we could have spent together. Maybe it happened for a reason though. Nana is going to be 79 in August and although she travels with my grandpa all the time, it's a process for her. She's the most nervous person I've ever met and just the thought of this trip was definitely taking a toll on her. Had we been there when my aunt had the stroke, it would have been incredibly difficult on her. But still, what an experience it would have been.

I will make it to Alaska some day. I've thought about taking my brother when he graduates from college. I really would like to go with my grandma, maybe we'll all go, who knows? I just feel like it's something I have to do, part of my family's history is there and I need to experience it. Someday.