In memory

My aunt died last week.

I had been in the car on the way home from the sketchiest freelance job interview, and I wished that I could just call up my Aunt Anne to ask her how she would have handled negotiating with this guy; it was the first time that I had to make an offer for my services and I got overwhelmed being put on the spot. I felt like, if I could have talked to her, she would have had some sage words of advice. After I’d gotten home and had dinner, I started getting messages asking about how I was doing, and if I was holding up okay. I just knew.

For almost almost as long as I can remember, she made her living as a freelancer. She gave me my first job when I was young I was probably 11, maybe 12 – she was working for a scientific education vendor. Sometimes I helped unpack or repack boxes of books that she had to review, and I remember spending hours cutting up the old catalogs to make a “dummy” version for the next year... I loved working in her office with all of the office supplies (yes, I have a geeky love of office supplies). When I was about 16 she started teaching me more about her work, and I continued working for her on and off, learning more with each project, until I was about 24! She taught me a lot about professionalism and what it means to have a strong work ethic in those 12+ years, and that will always stick with me.

I remember playing the “getting lost” game with her when I was about 10-years-old. She would take me, and sometimes my sister, out and tell us to give her directions. We would tell her to turn every few blocks just because we could. It became a regular thing, and I loved it. She would say, “Let’s go on an adventure and get lost!” I had the chance to visit her back in November and when we were talking about the “getting lost” game, she just said, “I know we got lost, but we got un-lost, too!” This kind of adventurousness stuck with me, and I am absolutely certain it is one reason why I wasn’t afraid of packing up my life to go to Europe 4.5 years ago.

I am still trying to wrap my head around all of the different emotions I am feeling right now. She was diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer in October, and Emma and I flew to Chicago for three weeks so I could visit her a few more times. I couldn’t articulate myself then when I could see her, and I can’t fully articulate myself now. Our visits during those few weeks were melancholic trips down memory lane. It was worse when I was back in Germany because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, I couldn’t stop missing her, and I had no way to tell her that myself. She was a mentor, and I miss her very much.

Without a doubt, my aunt taught me a lot of things that helped shape me into the person I am today, and I am incredibly grateful for it.

Rest in peace Aunt Anne, you will live on in my memories. I love you.

Anne Pauline Wallingford
June 29, 1949 – January 15, 2015