A Favorite Aunt, I Hope I’m One

I was finally able to break into solitary confinement Cell #14-03-012 aka my mother’s storage unit in the penthouse of one of Manhattan’s most elegant storage facilities, located on Riverside Drive and 135th Street. No views of the river however. First we had to deal with pesky details such as death certificates, letters of testamentary, locks being cut etc. The waiting had been excruciating–what would I find? Gold, jewels, Jimmy Hoffa’s body?

(More fascinating text below video)

No such luck–a stained sofa bed, a mattress, a poorly treated piano, and a lot of books and papers. Fortunately 1-800-GOTJUNK was very responsive. However, as I began leafing through the books to see what I wanted to keep, donate or trash, I found some interesting inscriptions. I noticed that many were to my mother’s aunt–Lillian Schumann.

Lil had never had children of her own but she married a man with a son, Richard. We all knew and loved Richard who unfortunately died of AIDS many years before his time. Lil had lived her adult life in Los Angeles, but when she needed help at the end of her life, she moved in with my mother in New York and stayed there until she died. Lil was very lucky to have my Mom. They had always enjoyed a close relationship and I think my mother felt that Lil appreciated my mother’s uniqueness and was not judgmental of it.

I doubt I will have anyone as loving as my Mom to take me in and care for me (or at least hire people to take care of me). I do keep trying to suck up to my nephews but there’s no telling how effective this will be. And really, I’m not trying hard enough. I stopped paying attention to their birthdays and Chanukah after they were about five years old. One of them has described me as the weirdest person he knows, but the other plays his cards close to his chest.

Today’s message: don’t open a storage unit and make friends with some younger people.