For as long as I knew her, she lived in a little old white house at the end of a dead end street. Next to the house was a garage that had been converted into a flower shop. She spent most of her time working with artificial flowers and compiling all sorts of interesting arrangements. Any relative who walked through the cemetery would say you could tell which flowers she had done. They were nicer, cleaner arrangements. Saddles, crosses, bouquets. She put a lot of work into them and it showed.

Inside, her house was filled from floor to ceiling with artificial flowers. Some in boxes. Some not. But there were so many you could barely move. It was years before I knew she had an actual bedroom. I had never seen the door beyond the flowers.

When we came to visit, we would often find her sitting at a little table by the window, working on her flowers. She would stop to chat with us and often laughed while my brother and I played her game of Connect Four.

She was a consummate hostess, well known for her never ending stashes of Coca Cola and corn on the cob.

And cigarettes. Well into her late seventies, she was a habitual smoker. Then, upon urging of her doctors, she quit. It seems she had been born with only half a heart but did find out until much later in life. Upon quitting, she would encourage others to smoke around her. She just really liked the smell, she said.

In her early days, she was amazing. They say she helped run my grandfather’s bars and was never one to miss out on an entrepreneurial venture. She kept this spirit up throughout her life and was extremely successful. Yet, she lived modestly. Nothing she said or did would give you the impression that she was well-to-do.

In my mind, she is a legend of almost mythical proportions. She was impressive. She had an edge about her, but, like her sisters, loved to laugh. She was caring yet tough, sentimental yet sarcastic, and had an unconventional beauty that was impossible to ignore.

Down at the end of the street, in her own little corner, in her quiet little town, Aunt Kay inspired us all.