IN MEMORY OF AUNT IVY
My fondest memory of my dad’s older sister takes me back to when I was ten years old. As a birthday gift, she took me out to lunch to the best cafeteria, Schensuls, on the Kalamazoo Mall. What a treat that was. As I remember it, it was a fancy restaurant with paneled walls, the clatter of trays, the chatter of patrons, and the wonderful array of different foods. Such a magical place to me. I stood there with my tray mesmerized, unable to decide what to pick. As the people in line got a bit restive, Aunt Ivy stepped in and chose the most colorful foods to dazzle a child: green jello with marshmallows, bright yellow macaroni and cheese, and the delectable red of strawberry shortcake. It was heaven. But the best treat was still to come. When we finished lunch, we went across the street to a jewelry store (I wish I remembered the name of it). We walked up to the counter, and Aunt Ivy asked the gentleman if we could see the rings with birthstones. I still can remember that moment because I thought she was simply buying something for herself. And when she turned to me and showed me a ring with a garnet stone and asked me if I liked it, I was completely silent, probably pale as a ghost, and utterly shocked. When she slipped it on my finger, I was overjoyed, truly.
To this day, I rank that day with Aunt Ivy as one of my most precious memories. She was kind, caring and wonderful. I only hope she knew how much it meant to me.
My sincere condolences,
Linda Field Florence
Daughter of Bert O. Field
