dear aunty rita, rest in peace

henry & rita orozco: combined IQ level,
250+; personality, off the charts

-mama had us meet her at san joaquin hospital in bakersfield once my doctor's appointment with the mysterious & kindly dr agha (a figure from a peter lorre film) was done. we could see on mama's face it was serious this time, & reality suddenly shuddered into a gray, weighted thing. aunty rita was not going to be leaving the hospital. it was the end.
-we went up to icu & she was a tiny figure in the bed, family all around bearing hushed faces of shock: this woman who had dominated all was going to be leaving us all very soon. aunty rita's face for the first time contained grandma's softness; even her mouth as i wiped it gently bore grandma's cupid's bow. the only thing legible she said was to yell aunty dodie's name; doubtless if she'd been more conscious she would have been calling for her sister in order to kick her a*s (their lifelong relationship has been love-hate). i think she smiled at me a bit; i know she did when she saw dad and james joking it up at the foot of her bed because aunty rita loved nothing much more than men. we all sat with her for a long time. i kissed her soft round cheek & told her i loved her & then it was time to leave.
-the next day james showed up at school unexpectedly. he sat with my class & me, sang a few songs, left the room for a bit (to cry, he later admitted), & when the kids were gone to their buses, he told me that aunty rita was gone, & that was it for me for a while til i came out of the fog hours later because it was time to call tushi, my dear cousin, aunty rita's daughter.
-aunty rita was petite, but she was larger-than-life: a foul-mouthed, fierce & fiercely funny figure. in her youth, she was dangerously glamorous, a femme fatale who lived on whisky, cigarettes, hamburgers, & diet pills. (she later stopped drinking & smoking cold turkey & never looked back, characteristic of her resolute nature.) her favorite color was "streetwalker red," she'd tell you; she could charm & disarm any male, 1st with her exotic hourglass looks & personality, later with personality, & with those flashing black eyes & white smile. she was quick with numbers, handling money for the grape growers in delano, ca. she hustled & did what she could to take care of our cousins, tushi & ray, her kids. sometimes that meant living back at home with grandma & grandpa, in the house on randolph across from the vineyards.
-later in life, she met uncle henry, who, 110 pounds soaking wet, had carried the torch for her since their  delano high school days (big, rawboned "uncle" danny later would remember her from those days, too, & he would be her last love). uncle henry had become a nuclear engineer with big bucks; he sent for her & she bolted. they traveled the world with his many jobs, amassing hundreds of friends & adventures.
-in those years, every word from aunty rita's mouth seemed to be some hilarious story or other, about meeting mean joe green or oj simpson or seeing willie or just about the family. she & uncle henry together would draw crowds w/their vicious, laugh-out-loud routines. she was merciless in her humorous attack: anyone could be chopped to bits by her tongue, but most would be left howling w/laughter as she hacked away. her temper was fierce, her love just as much so. she ran dear tushi in texas & mom & dad ragged taking care of her these last many years, demanding mama bring her soup or a hamburger or go do this or that errand for her, or that tushi get on the plane RIGHT NOW to get home to her mama. she controlled us all by phone from her couch or (in the last year) hospital bed. she had been sick 17 years, having to stop her travels with uncle henry when kidney failure brought her to bakersfield, where she stuck. she was so often sick, then always sick, but she persevered, she just kept going: we all thought she was gone many times, but she'd come back, defying odds. the family joked that she & james weren't human but mutant: they'd lived lives that would've killed mere mortals...
-many years ago, when i stepped in sh*t pretty deep due to my then-dangerous need for male attention, aunty rita helped me out of it. and she never told a soul how she had saved my reputation & first marriage -- now then, not ever. that was the true aunty rita, bearing a trait all ollivares-forqueras seem to have: that deep, undying loyalty. mama has it for all, abundantly, freely; aunty rita would tear you to bits if she were in the mood, but when the chips were down, she was there for you no matter what.
 -there will never be another aunty rita. we all will miss her huge presence so much. we are heartbroken she is gone, but grateful she no longer has to suffer. i hope i have conveyed even a bit of her here. i will, again, miss her so very, very much.