My Aunt died this week. She was 91 years old and suffering with congestive heart failure.
It is not hard to engage the rational mind and say that this is a blessing, an evidence of the grace of God. Her death marks the last person in the generation ahead of me. I now have no parents, aunts or uncles.
As one would expect, I am flooded with memories of my childhood, when this Aunt loved me as one of her own. Most of the memories are probably too personally specific to be fun for anyone who wasn’t there at the time. But, what this Aunt’s death screams for me is that I have lost my direct connection to my Norwegian heritage.
I don’t know anyone, but me, in our family that understands the spoken Norwegian language. I don’t know anyone for whom the financially worthless items passed down through the generations will be embraced as treasures. I don’t know anyone who will agree with me that Christmas without lutefisk is a sad thing.
Thankfully, lutefisk is in the Bible: The piece of Cod that surpasses understanding!