26 March 2018
Juno Day Phone Call From Newfoundland
I was listening to Lou Reed, Art Bergman, the Rolling Stones and The Pointed Sticks when the phone rang. It was my dad. Calling from Newfoundland. He sounded well.
“Sitting down?” he asked, formalities complete.
I replied affirmatively.
“Your Aunt Emma died,” he informed me.
My only aunt who is younger than me. Grandma kept making babies until she was fucking near sixty.
“When she did not show at her grandson’s first birthday party a party was sent by her house. Had to break in. She was dead in her bed.”
We talked some more and said our byes.
I love all my aunts and uncles but Emma was my favourite. She would be the first to agree with Lou Reed that life is good, but not fair at all.
That is four of my dad’s twelve brothers and sisters gone. But Emma’s the first one gone to make me wonder how fucking long I’ve got.