A Love Letter…To My Aunt Sue and Uncle Vic.
October 4th, 2011
Almost a month ago, my Uncle Vic passed away. We were lucky enough to spend his very last birthday with him in May. My mom and I flew back to New Hampshire, for a second time, to attend my Uncle’s funeral. I have two homes; here in PA and my 2nd home in Sunapee, NH. I spent my summers up in Sunapee until age 17. All of the memories and the people I spent my time with have helped to mold me into who I am today. My Uncle was one of those people. Even more so was my Aunt Sue. I miss them both. Since the funeral for my Uncle Vic, I can’t help but feel a strong sense of loss, but even more so a feeling of being blessed.
My Aunt Sue, my mother’s sister, was this beautiful tall blonde who was a true artist. She knew how to sing, paint, sew, knit and cook. She could do anything. To this day, I think to myself, how did she create such wonderful oil paintings? Oil is so hard to work with. But, she did it and did it well. At one point, she was an amazing lampshade designer. She also made a skirt from my Uncle Vic’s ties. The entire skirt was ties and it was just so clever. So different. Her talent was a steady stream of never ending designs and ideas. She dabbled in beading and she was the first person who showed me beads when I was a kid. My Aunt was known as the artist, but she never had that pretentious air. She was herself and she was a pistol.
My Uncle Vic, was a pianist. Vic was her husband. He was kind and soft-spoken. He spoke through his music. The piano was his first love. Both my Aunt and Uncle encouraged cultur
They owned and operated a resort called, Trow Rico. Summers were spent at Trow, with my family. An artistic, eccentric, musical family. It’s no coincidence that my Aunt and Uncle have a son that is a lead singer of a band and not just any band. His pipes and lips are legendary. And Lynda, my cousin and Steven’s sister, also the daughter of Aunt Sue and Uncle Vic, is also an artist that can do anything. Yeah. I need to watch out for her. She designs jewelry, too.
When I was in my teenage years, my Aunt supported my need to be different. If I said, “I don’t know if I should wear this, I am not sure if it makes sense. No one else is wearing it,” my Aunt would ask, “Do you like it? If so, wear it. Don’t be like everyone else.” She always instilled this and my Uncle Vic followed suit.
Summers were spent listening to music, playing music, and having art contests. Who could make the best hat out of things found in a house? Who could make the best shoes? One year, I made shoes out of tissue boxes. My cousin, Lynda’s husband, made a hat out of a milk carton. It was an “out house” and he won. These art contests at Trow Rico were for all to get involved. Everyone staying at the resort. They were projects. We would spend hours and days trying to decide what to make shoes out of. It was “Project Runway” before “Project Runway” existed.
My summers in NH were the best summers of my life. My Aunt and Uncle’s encouragement to make art out of whatever was around, has carried on over to me. They taught all of us to be resourceful.
When you go over in your head how you got to where you are today, you always have a point of reference. My mind automatically jumps back to New Hampshire and Aunt Sue and Uncle Vic. They were artistic and fascinating to me. I was driven by my desire to have that talent. My parents encouraged me to be and do what I wanted.
My Aunt was a risk taker and so am I. My father was a risk taker too. My mother was also an artist, having gone to Moore College of Art, but she admittedly didn’t have the hootzpah to run with her art. My Aunt did and with no training. My mother had always looked to her sister with a sense of awe.
My Aunt passed away in 2008. That was tough. I will always love her and more importantly, look up to her. My middle name comes from her. And my Uncle Vic, who lived until age 95, what a great life he had. He played golf and the piano up until a couple of years ago. God bless him. A smile, a sweet and kind man who spoke through his music, that was his way of conveying who he was.
As my mother says, “It’s the end of an era.” It is. It’s sad. But, it’s also so sweet because I and the rest of my family, will always have such sweet memories of these wonderful people and just what they gave to us.
Thank you, Aunt Sue for helping to guide me to who I am today. And Uncle Vic, thank you for loving me and teaching me, “Claire de Lune” and many other beautiful songs. Also, thank you for bringing us to New Hampshire. I am so thankful for both of you. May you both rest in peace…together.