Let me begin by saying I apologize for not posting last week, I was traveling and did not plan ahead… rookie mistake. I had gone home to visit Babcia, the fam, and my sweet grandson. It was a good week and a great visit, as usual. I have to say though that the highlight of the week was that I actually beat Babcia at a game of Rummy. Anyone who has played cards with Babcia knows this is next to impossible, she’s a shark. As my brother says, she cheats… although I think we say this more to soothe our fragile egos who know that nobody beats Babcia at cards. We play almost every evening when I visit, it’s a ritual that we both hold dear. I shuffle and keep score, she “cheats”, it’s a whole thing. Babcia saves every score sheet from every game, as a sort of trophy to her superiority. Every now and then though, there is a tally with the star next to MY name instead of hers, and I am proud of those rare pieces of paper. I do believe sometimes that she lets me win because it makes me so happy. That’s what mamas do.

We also learned this past week that my aunt Luta, Babcia’s sister in in the hospital. Let me tell you about my aunt Luta. I want to tell you about her because she has had such an impact on my life. In their younger days, Babcia and her sister Luta even looked quite a bit alike, especially from behind. I’ll never forget once being at aunt Luta’s house and walking into the kitchen to see a person I thought was my mom cooking breakfast. I approached her from behind saying in my sleepy state that I didn’t want eggs only to realize when she turned around that this person was not my mom but rather my aunt Luta preparing to serve us all breakfast. I was mortified. Being a very shy as a child, I ran out of the kitchen upstairs to my sleeping mom and stayed her until she woke up. I didn’t know then that this meant that aunt Luta would proceed to prepare several other variations of breakfast just to please everyone (me).

My aunt Luta has always been a perfect hostess. We would stay with her when we came to Chicago to visit family. I always loved staying with her. She tended to everyone’s needs, my mom was always happy when we were there as they would talk and laugh all day long and into the night, and I would hang out with my cousins. All of us cousins have the same memories of swimming in the backyard pool, being served snacks all day long, and sleeping all together in mounds of blankets in the downstairs den with the big wooden bar in the corner and the huge comfy sectional couch. You couldn’t walk down there without stepping on a kid some place. We would stay up late into the night with the TV on, laughing and chatting until we fell asleep. That was our space and we always felt comfortable there.

Of course I have to mention the food. There was always food on the table from morning til night. Meats, cheese, fruits, cakes, cookies, and sausages… every type of Polish sausage that was ever made was always on that table in the dining room. Loaves of Polish bread and unsalted butter sat there to accompany all the other foods. The grown ups had coffee and the kids had juice, or soda or pretty much whatever we wanted as it was all available to us. Suffice it to say that my aunt Luta knew how to throw a party. She always understood that food brings people together, as we would all gather around that table throughout the day to talk and laugh and to plan the next meal. She fed us and loved doing it. Her house was always comfortable and yet beautiful, tastefully decorated with nice things from her travels and photos of her family. Every kid remembers the plastic room from when we were growing up… the formal living room to the right when you walked in the front door where the furniture was covered in plastic. You always felt like you had to sit up straight in there, and we didn’t dare bring food or drink in there for fear of spilling on the light colored carpet or furniture.

Aunt Luta has always been more than just a perfect hostess to me though. I’ve looked up to her for that certainly, and tried to always make people feel as welcome in my home over the years as she made us feel growing up. She is also a beautiful lady, inside and out. Aunt Luta has a smile, more like a grin, that is a little crooked and goes from ear to ear. You can’t look at her when she is smiling and not smile yourself. She has always had fiesty spirit and a ‘go-getter’ attitude. I’ve always admired her strength and positivity. Then there are the clothes. I don’t know if there was ever a more well dressed woman than my aunt Luta. Her closets were always stuffed with fashionable clothing of the time. She loves to shop and she loves a bargain. She was a hairdresser by trade, even had her own shop. From the top of her head to the shoes on her feet, she was always perfectly coordinated and stylish. She took pride in her appearance, which stuck with me. My family never had much in the way of material things growing up. I remember one particular visit when I was in high school, aunt Luta was cleaning out her closet and had me try on piles of clothes that she later sent home with me. For me, it was like shopping in a boutique only everything was free of charge. I was in heaven. I felt so pretty and confident wearing those clothes (all designer) and I remember walking around school feeling like a million bucks when I wore them. It gave me a sense of pride in myself and taught me how to “dress for success”. In her mind she got to clean out her closet, but she gave me more than she will ever know in those clothes.

Aunt Luta has always been a caregiver. She is a light in our family, and her children have followed in her footsteps. They are all warm, giving, happy people. My cousin Julie reminds me so much of her mother in all the best ways. Like her mother, Julie has a heart the size of Texas and gives and gives to those around her. I admire my cousin Julie as much as I admire her mother. If I can be half as generous and positive as they are, I’ve accomplished something huge. Knowing the life that my ciocia had… migrating to the United States through a terrible war, adjusting to a new country, working hard her entire life, being a wonderful wife and mother, always being the first one awake and the last one to bed as she took care of those around her… her beautiful smile and disposition are a testament to her lovely spirit. We love her, we pray for her health and well being. I am so blessed to have her as one of the many strong women in my life that I’ve looked up to over the years. She helped teach me how to be a lady. This lady, my ciocia Luta, captures the quintessential idea of being a loving Polish woman. I am so very happy to have her in my life, and I thank her for all she has taught me.