My sweet Aunt Polly passed away at 4 a.m. this morning. I happened to be awake, as the Woodland Police Department dispatcher called our number in error; at the time I was relieved that it wasn’t an emergency call about someone I loved, but... Polly’s son Rich and his wife Kay were up at that time, too. Who knows how we all communicate.
I saw Polly a week ago when I drove her daughter Annie from the Sacramento airport north to Chico, where Polly lived the last few years. Her hair and skin were beautiful: rich dark brown-almost black streaks threaded through her still-abundant grey hair, and her face was relatively unlined for a woman who would have turned 93 in a few weeks. Her smile was lovely and kind; she was so happy all four of her children had been with her in the last few weeks.
To my mind, Polly had made almost a complete circle, living in the shady town of Chico at the end of her life that seems to have similarities with Cleveland, the town where she grew up, met and married her husband Max, and had her four children. In between she paused in Los Angeles and Phoenix, living near family before settling in a place with mountain views and blue blue skies.
Polly is the one who always sent cards to commemorate birthdays, anniversaries and other milestones to everyone in our large extended family. My wedding anniversary is in three days, and I will miss the card that would have already been in the mail. She had one of the sharpest memories of the Konigsberg siblings and filed away many useful bits of information. When our daughter was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes eight years ago, Polly was the one who remembered that her mother’s second cousin’s daughter had died of type 1 around 1920, before insulin was available as a treatment.
Polly was devoted to her brothers and sisters, and worried about those who were still alive. Just a month ago, her beloved sister Cissy died, a fact that bothered her because she was a year old than Cissy, and Cissy’s passing wasn’t in the right order, she said.
She had a great laugh, and shared stories of growing up during the Depression and beyond. Polly was so very proud of her children—Rich of Seattle, Marta of New Hampshire, and twins Annie of Scottsdale and Rob of Chico—and of her four grandchildren, Katherine, Ben, Aaron and Eric.
It’s a milestone for all of us that she is gone; we will miss our archivist with the gentle smiling face. We love you, Polly.
[video from Cissy’s 90th birthday, Feb. 2008. L-R: Sisters Saralee, Cissy and Polly.]
