Today I went to a funeral. It was for my Aunt, my father’s oldest sister, who I didn’t get to know until late in her life.

Being the product of an affair, and now integrating myself into an entire half of my family I did not grow up with, made today awkward. Or, more to the point, I felt awkward. It also didn’t help that I’ve been fighting a cold/sinus infection.

Like any stereotypical black funeral, there was singing, praising, and a very loud long-winded pastor. Still, it was nice.

I got to see a lot of people, no, family. That’s still weird to say.

I also got a better sense of the woman my Aunt was: intelligent, strong willed, loving. I knew her as the smiling frail woman who was hard of hearing but always happy to see me.

Even though she didn’t have any children, you saw her impact in the nieces and nephews she cared for, in the multitude of lives she touched.

For her last birthday, I bought her a pocket rock with the word LOVE inscribed on it. More than anything else, she gave and was loved.

Goodbye Aunt Nellie.

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