At that moment, Aunt Wanda couldn’t stand it any longer. As she wiped away her tears, she stepped forward and said, “Andrea is gone now. Let's watch our tongues,” she said. Her voice was trembling with sorrow.
She then turned to my father, her expression turned softened, but firm. “Mr. Adam Lopez, look at her … she didn’t leave in a dignified way. I’ve heard morticians can do wonders. They can repair bodies damaged by accidents so the deceased can leave this world with dignity. Shouldn’t we do the same for Andrea?”
Warmth filled my heart when I heard Aunt Wanda’s words.
Throughout the cold, lonely years of my twenty-seven years of life, she was the only one who ever made me feel cared for. She was more like family than my family ever was.
When my parents bought cotton candy for my sister and brother but forgot to buy it for me, Aunt Wanda handed me the one she bought for her daughter.
When my sister secretly slandered me and made the other children refuse to play with me, Aunt Wanda invited me to her house to play with her daughter.