Blog #5 My Aunt Marelyn

My aunt Marelyn was a fireball. She and my uncle Fred owned and ran retail stores in Boston, MA, for over forty years, building a successful business selling wigs, jewelry, purses, and health and beauty items. Two stores were in Roxbury and Dorchester, and one in Dorchester. I worked there a handful of times and was surprised to learn how unsafe the area could be—alarms blaring in the middle of the night, and my uncle never leaving home without a gun.

What stayed with me most, though, was something far simpler: my aunt patiently teaching me how to count back change at the register. It was one of her quiet lessons in confidence—she was quite the businesswoman, savy and tough!

She and my mom were best friends. They would call each other multiple time each day, often speaking in Yiddish. They grew up with a grandmother that didn't speak English, and thus they learned to speak it at a young age. They both attended the Boston Conservatory of Music to take piano lessons—in fact, my mom played beautifully.

Aunt Marelyn was a marvelous cook and entertainer. Like my mom, she loved to shop and eat! Those two could put more food down in one day than I could in several days! When my uncle was diagnosed with non-Hodkins disease, they dropped everything and began to travel the world. I believe they traveled to almost every continent.

She had only one child—my cousin Kim—and we are more like sisters than cousins. While my aunt and uncle were deeply focused on building their business, Kim grew up as a storybook latchkey kid. I remember staying overnight at her house, her room decorated with psychedelic posters which lit up with a black light!

As my aunt aged and became less able, the two of them grew remarkably close. Despite the lack of nurturing my cousin experienced as a child, she became a phenomenal mother, raising three incredible girls. They all fondly called my aunt by the nickname, "Gigi."

Just over a year ago, my aunt suffered a critical fall, breaking several ribs. She never fully recovered, and her health declined rapidly. One day, unexpectedly, Kim called on me to serve as a death doula. She gathered the family, and we held the ceremony together over FaceTime. Almost immediately afterward, my aunt began struggling to breathe. Kim and her daughter, who is a nurse, responded quickly, gently suctioning the liquid from her mouth.

They weren’t quite ready to let her go. Two days later, I felt guided to offer a singing bowl meditation for Kim and her daughters. While they gathered in the living room during the meditation, I sensed that my aunt—sleeping in her bedroom—could hear the gentle resonance of the bowls.

That same day, just after five o’clock in the afternoon, my aunt Marelyn gently crossed over. When I traveled to Boston for her Celebration of Life, my aunt spoke through me with messages that brought deep comfort to everyone present.

My aunt Marelyn lived life to the fullest. She laughed, smiled, and was always the life of the party. We spoke on the phone every day, and she always looked forward to my calls. When I learned to crochet, I made her the scarf that you see her wearing in the picture. She was thrilled and thanked me profusely.

It's hard to believe she has been gone a year. She is deeply missed, and will forever remain on our hearts...

Lisa Bromfield

Transformational Life Guide

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