Two of my beloved aunts have passed away recently, and I... miss them, for lack of a better phrase.
Most recently, we gathered around the grave of a truly remarkable woman [who struck out from the small town where she was raised and where each of her four brothers [including my father] remained to raise their families], who dedicated her life to children as an accomplished pediatric cardiac care nurse. We, her extended family, knew she had no children of her own.
We soon realized how very wrong we were.
A young man, probably my age really, offered a graveside eulogy that day. Long ago, his mother came to live with my aunt and uncle as a housekeeper, bringing along this little boy into a house where no children had ever lived. And into that house the little boy brought so much love that the four grew into a family. With more eloquence and wisdom than I could ever muster, he said:
I was born of one mother, but two gave me life.
How beautiful, and profoundly true.