Anne D. Locke

Aunt Anne or as the sisters lovingly called her, AA. When I was much younger, I remember AA as always being so put together. Her hair was always so beautifully styled and I loved the way she dressed. I always admired how she looked in her white blouse and pants. She was so slim and beautiful. I wanted to look just like her. She carried herself with such grace and confidence.

AA was a soft spoken, gentle giant. She became a widow way before she was ready but she battled the loss of her beloved husband, Gene, every single day. She told me once that it took her 5 years to get over the loss of Gene, but she never really did. She simply accepted the reality that he was gone and she still had many good years left to live, love and enjoy her family.

When our mom died, AA came around more and more and we were able to get to know her in a different light. She was there for our dad many times over but she was there for us as well, so fun to talk about clothes, hair color, food and most interestingly the past. She loved to sit in her back yard and talk about the past with you.

We spent so many times with AA at our dinner table and many times before she was unable to drive, she would come to St. Henry for the masses said in honor of our mom. She shared in the crazy breakfast prep afterwards of 5 or 6 cooks in a kitchen made for one or maybe 2 with another 12 or so family members hanging out enjoying each other. Best times ever.

AA even ventured out to one of our Sunday rituals when Sharon is in town. After the breakfast is over, mess cleaned up and Sharon had the roast beef in the oven, we’d venture out to the Gap outlet. AA took the leap and dug in for the trip. I don’t believe she bought a thing that day; but every time we would go, she would insist on seeing all of our bargains.

We loved sharing all our girlie habits with her. AA became a huge part of our family. I’m not sure if we adopted her as our “honorary mom” or she adopted us as her “renegade girls”, but we loved her and wanted to include her in everything we did together.

In short, my precious AA, you were such an important part of our healing after we lost our mom, not only for us but for dad. I loved how you would sit with dad and talk and look at old photos that dad was relentless at naming every single person in a photo from 70 years plus years ago but there the two of you sat sharing moments from the past. I loved watching how each of them found peace sharing time with each other.

Of course, although dinner would be right on time, we would always serve AA and dad their salads and rolls prior to dinner being put out as Daisy was always intent on feeding AA lots of chips and dip, as AA loved them so much, but then she couldn’t eat her dinner. But!!! AA always had room for dessert and sometimes 2. Now not too much was never too much and I’m just like her, and I’m really glad that I can always have a part of AA with me.

I am remembering the last time I drove you back to St. Charles from dads. The last dinner before Sharon went back to Charlotte. I never was sure if you were really ready to leave or afraid if you didn’t leave with me, you’d be there until who knows when, when Carol, the next bus, would be leaving. I’m sure glad you opted for me. I also know you were anxious to get home as Glen called you every night.
We’d get out of the car and you’d take off like you were running a race. I’d have to run to catch up. Then you’d always say, “you don’t have to walk me back”. Ah well that wasn’t happening. We walked back together so many times and every time you were so gracious just like you always were. I hugged you; I kissed you and prayed you’d be happy and safe.

Now I see my prayers are answered, you are happy and safe wrapped in our God’s strong, comforting arms.

I just wish I had one more chance to hug you and kiss you good night, and tell you I love you.

Sheila
22 March 2025

Dave, Marianne and Jacob –
Prayers and sympathy for all of you on the passing of your mom, mom-in-law and grandmother. May memories of good times bring you comfort at this sorrow-filled time.
Condolences,
Germaine & Joe