THE GLASSES SHE SAVED

'What My Aunt Taught Me In The Leaving'
Written & Narrated by Allié McGuire

​Last month, I drove two hours to say goodbye to my Aunt Deb.

She had stage 4 ovarian cancer that had spread to her stomach and into her lungs. It wasn’t long ago that she lost my Uncle Terry. Not long after that she had to move out of her home that I had helped her pack up and leave behind. She moved into another house, that tried to be but never could really feel like home.

It was in that house that wasn’t quite home where she would spend her final days, in an ending that was never meant to be written this way. There were so many chapters she had planned to write.

She was supposed to see the country with my uncle. She was supposed to finally enjoy retirement after years and years of working at her consignment shop, The Corner Closet, which she lovingly called “first class in second hand.” She was supposed to do so much more with the life she had worked so hard to finally slow down and enjoy.

But life does not always wait for us to open the good wine.

During my visit, her energy was nearly gone. Breathing was difficult. Talking was even harder. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but in the moments when she was there with me, really there, I managed to make her laugh.
And of course, it was about wine.

“What was that?” I asked her. “Do I want some wine?”

She laughed.

“Yeah,” she said. “Red or white?”

“Why not both?” I said.

Her laugh grew bigger.
“Yes,” she said.

Then I looked at her and said, “You started this, you know. You gave me my first sip of wine.”

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and nodded yes.

That was Aunt Deb.

She gave me my first sip of wine, which somehow became the first pour into a chapter of my life and career I never could have seen coming. She gave me my first job at her resale shop. She gave me long talks in her kitchen, at her bar, and on her back porch. She treated me like a daughter. She treated my boys like her own. She made room for people, for stories, for laughter, for flowers in the yard and conversation that never needed to hurry.

​When I left that day, I hugged her sister Judy who had been by her side since her decline began. I reassured her I was there to help in any and every way I could. Before I went home, Judy gave me a box from Aunt Deb. Inside was a brand-new set of Riedel wine glasses and a few pieces of jewelry she thought I would like. I was also sent home with a few nice bottles of wine to enjoy in the new and unused glasses.

And that is the part I cannot stop thinking about.

The glasses were new.

Unused.

Waiting.

​She should have used those glasses. She should have poured the wine. She should have held the stem between her fingers on an ordinary Tuesday and decided that ordinary was occasion enough.

She should have enjoyed them every day instead of saving them for a day that never came.

Two days later, I received a text from Judy. My aunt had been moved to a hospice house. She had only hours or days left. Right away, I drove up with my son, Espen, and his girlfriend, Jordan, for what would become our last goodbye. Around 2:00 p.m., we were there. Four hours after we’d left, at 7:07 p.m., another text came from Judy.

“Aunt Deb is at peace. Just a few minutes ago. Very peaceful.”

​Aunt Deb’s life was not measured in the cancer that took her, or the house she had to leave, or the retirement she never got to fully live. Her life was in the laughter that still found its way through labored breathing. It was in the first sip of wine she handed me years ago without knowing what it would become. It was in the jewelry she chose, the glasses she saved, the shop she built, the flowers she tended, the family she loved, and the way she made people feel like they belonged.


I wish she had opened the glasses.


I wish she had poured the good bottles of red.


I wish she had poured more of the bottles of white.


Now, the unused glasses are mine to use not just in memory of her, but in honor of what she taught me in the leaving.

Do not wait.

Do not save everything beautiful for later.

Use the good glasses.

Drink the good wine.

Say the thing.

Take the trip.

Sit on the porch.

Laugh while you can.

Because someday, the day we were waiting for becomes the day we wish we had not waited at all. ∎