My aunt, Kay Allard died on May 25th, one week after her 78th birthday. A memorial was held on June 21st.
My sister and I didn't know she passed until Tuesday.
We were equally livid and confused as we stumbled upon the news. I had not heard from Aunt Kay since late March; I last texted her in mid-June to share a photo we'd found. My sister had commented that we hadn't heard from her in awhile, and we noticed over the weekend that our calls were disconnected and texts were bouncing back. My sister called the Naperville Police Department to do a welfare check; they called back to inform us that she'd passed two months ago. A memorial service was held and attended by "family and friends," and this vague phrase also appears in her obituary.
We had to get to the bottom of this communication breakdown. Eventually, my sister got a hold of the hospice service that Kay hired (and assisted in the service). Aunt Kay had mentioned earlier in the year that she was going to have pacemaker surgery, but she didn't specify when. The procedure was just before her birthday; after the surgery, a number of complications arose, including a series of strokes. It left her incapable of speaking or operating her iPhone, and no one knew how to unlock it. For a self-described ambassadorial extrovert, it feels awful knowing she essentially died alone and in silence.
I had a stronger relationship with Kay than my sister. I would attribute any issue between Kay, my mother and my sister to personality clashes, and I’ll leave it at that. We texted about monthly, but I hadn't seen Kay in person since my mother's burial in June 2017.
Kay was the last direct connection to the Kansas City side of the family, even though the Allards moved to LaGrange, IL in 1951, not long after her sixth birthday. With her gone, my living family is now down to my sister and some scattered cousins.
Kay did not live alone. Even though she was widowed in 2004, she was the primary caretaker for her husband's sister Delores. She is developmentally disabled and was shuffled around most of her life until landing with Kay and my late Uncle Ray in 1995. My sister and I were told that Delores will be living with her nephew in Tampa.
There is still some mystery to this. My sister and I have cousins in southern Illinois that we are not close to; they apparently organized the memorial service. I don't believe we have their contact info. On top of that, we don't know what will happen to Kay's belongings; we believe her will cites our father (who died 7 1/2 years ago) and Delores as getting the majority of her inheritance.
Given how abruptly we found out our aunt's passing, I'm still processing my thoughts. Had things going according to plan, the onus of writing a eulogy would have rested on my shoulders. Though Kay was not the reason I went into education (a long story in itself) I inherited her passion for teaching writing and helping students generate ideas. She was an English teacher at Glenbard East High School in Lombard, IL from 1981 to 2001 and taught at College of DuPage in some capacity from 1973 to 2022.
I feel some guilt about this. Even though I last texted Kay in mid-June, she hadn’t texted me since late March. I wanted to do lunch or brunch or something to that effect, but couldn’t find the right time to ask. COVID compounded the perceived distance. Until I can fully embrace her passing, all I can say beyond this is that I hope she’s at peace.
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