My Aunt Mimi

The month of October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Most people are some in form or another affected by this terrible disease--whether it be a friend, sister, mom, aunt, grandma, or even themselves. My company recently pledged to raise $5,000 for the Susan G. Komen foundation in honor of it being BCA month and I'm excited to be participating in this special event.

Two lovely women in my own family passed away fighting the disease. While I never met my grandmother because she was gone before I was born, I was able to spend 15 wonderful years with my beloved Aunt Mimi.

Mimi was a force to be reckoned with. She was an intelligent, poised woman who knew exactly what she wanted. She was a world-traveler, a successful attorney, supporter of Houston arts, a gourmet cook, and so much more. However, it wasn't uncommon for her to simply say to whomever was nearest at family holidays, "Get me some more Diet Coke, and don't forget the ice." I don't think anyone ever thought to not get her a Diet Coke.

My favorite memories of Mimi date back to early childhood. Mimi was a big supporter of the Houston Opera and Ballet and would take me and my sister to 'The Nutcracker Ballet' every Christmas. We would get a packet of Junior Mints to enjoy during the show and marveled at the way the dancers twirled and glided across the stage. 

One time, Mimi guffawed at me when I was ten years old because of the way I walked. She told me that she spent good money going to spa's learning how to stand and walk correctly. I vaguely remember her putting a book atop her head and having me mimick the way she walked.

However, one of the best and last memories I have of Mimi was when she was lying in her hospital bed surrounded by her family. She wasn't able to speak anymore but could slowly scribble on a piece of paper with the help of a nurse. We were holding up a sheet of paper to understand what it was that she wanted and something that looked like a young child's first attempts at writing were slowly written down. No one could understand what she had written. I squinted a few times at the sheet of paper and realized exactly what is was that she was asking for. Mimi had written, just a few days before leaving us, "I would kill for a Diet Coke right now."

She passed away before Christmas almost seven years ago. She wasn't there to demand someone grab a Diet Coke for her--and I think the whole family missed that.

More than anything, I wish she got the chance to meet Ryan. She would have loved him. Mimi passed up a four year scholarship at Rice University to study at Barnard in New York City for a year. Since my grandparents had eight children and couldn't afford to continue her private school education in New York she had to return home to Houston. Her love of big cities and new cultures never left her soul. She and Ryan would have been good friends.

I wish she was here to help me plan my wedding. She had the most sophisticated and refined taste. I remember her telling my newly engaged cousin at the time, "Every wedding invitation should only be a cream or ivory card stock invitation with black engraving on it."

I miss her so much sometimes. I think about her often. Sometimes, I even dream about her. My sister and I used to ride around in the trunk of her green station wagon Mercedes when we were little and thought it was the most fun thing in the world. We would look out the back window and think how cool it was that we got to travel around facing the back of the road.

I know I'll see her in heaven one day but I wish she was wish us now. 

In honor of Mimi and all of the other fabulous women affected by this disease, I hope you'll support Breast Cancer Awareness Month by doing something special this month.


A Wiseman Once Said . . . I hope to be just like Mimi when I grow up.