Aunt Carol

Aunt Carol and Uncle Marty came with my folks and I to Africa a few years back despite that she had a broken foot.  She had kept that secret from us (and perhaps herself) so she wouldn’t miss out.  That was Carol.



Mom tells me that Carol adopted me that trip and I didn’t mind in the least.  Never had trouble talking with or sharing with her.  Carol was ALWAYS intent on getting me married.  I think my occasional resemblance to Uncle Marty helped endear me to her in that side of things.  But Carol really kind of flirted with everybody, really.   That’s what made her so fun.  That sparkle.

Carol would immediately pick up on ANY implication a situation had towards matchmaking and teasing and laughing about relationships between men and women.  And her voice RANG.  The Flucks and the Leepers are quiet mumblers for the most part.  Carol was boisterous and loud – and as a result brightened every corner of our family.



Carol also was STYLE.  The Fluck woman all are beautiful in their farmgirl way but Carol was CITY, baby.  Carol was shopping.  Carol was Paris.  Carol was buy-something-cute-and-sassy-and-now-tell-me-how-good-I-look-in-it.  And then laugh.




Sass is a great word for Carol.  She would love that others would think that.  And she would strut around to show she loves it.  She loved finding it AND being it.  When sass would escalate sass that would make her day.

Carol is the only person I know who has won the lottery.  The BIG lottery.  A PERFECT fit.  If personality is a watermark though, it had a ways to go.



Her love for her husband Marty I can only hope to have given to me someday.

The Carol I remember both cracked up quickly at an embarrassing situation and then found a way to put herself into it to relate.  She was in it WITH you if it was happening to you.  She didn’t stand by, she got right there in with you to share in the predicament of the situation.  She LOVED situations like that.  And carrying the implications out in singsongy, smiling, predictions.

It was ALWAYS great to return the sass and boisterous laughing and eyesparkle to her and I look forward very much to doing that again with her someday.  I think I’ll tell her ALL about what I like in a woman and what I want in a relationship and look forward to hearing her cackle about every little detail, but always smiling behind her eyes at the sheer enjoyment of living those kinds of moments held for her.

I look forward to that dinner at her home, wherever she is then, and then talking on the back porch into the evening about all manner of crazy what’s-he-wearing-that-for?!s, why-did-he-do-that?!s and you-need-tos she’s be saving up until then.