Aunt Mable moved to Lake Architectless with her husband Thomas or Uncle Tom as we called him. She made the best chocolate chip cookies in the world. My friends and I used to stop by their house on the way home from school. She always had milk and cookies for us fresh and warm from the oven.
Mable was also the town’s piano teacher so her house was a frequent destination in the hours after school and Saturday’s. The sounds of chopsticks flowing out the windows and doors to greet the world as Mable gentle corrected the fingering and finger position of her students.
She was a small woman, no more than 5 foot tall. In all the years I knew her I never saw her frown or heard her yell at anyone. I am sure she did, I just never saw it. Thomas was her life, and in fact she was the only person who always called him Thomas.
I was eight years old when she died. It is a day I will never forget. The rain was falling around us as we stood next to the grave. We put roses on the headstone and watched as my father gentle led Thomas away from the grave. He would have stood there for the rest of his life had my father let him.