I was born into one of those crazy Catholic families. Well, we were crazy without the Catholic, but my grandmother was at times fanatical in her Catholicism. One fine example of this is that my youngest aunt is just 10 years older than me. And the fact that she’s closer in age to all of her nieces/nephews than to any of her siblings. And she has many of both.

This aunt became an aunt when she was just 6. She was 10 when I was born and you can find her in about half of the pictures from my childhood. She’s my aunt, but she’s as much of a sister to me as any of the 5 others who technically have that role.

This aunt was there for me in most of my major life events. She’s seen me at my lowest lows and my highest highs. She’s wanted such great things for me, even when I didn’t want them. She loved me without conditions, even when I made her cry, even when I didn’t show her the same love in return.

This aunt is often one of the first people I turn to in a crisis because she’s the best at being brutally honest without being an asshole (a quality that is rare in my family). I always know that something is a truly an issue if my aunt thinks it is. Aside from her politics, I trust her judgement implicitly. She gives sound advice and will not tolerate me ignoring it (much to my frustration, I might add). She listens and cares, always. No matter how big or small, important or completely stupid.

This aunt gave birth to the 3 most beautiful children I’ve ever seen. She’s allowed me to be a part of their lives from the very start. I changed her daughter’s first diaper (and then swore I would never have kids because ohdeargod that was gross), I babysat her son daily for weeks. I love her youngest son so much I seriously contemplate stealing him. You think I’m kidding. I’m not. Have you seen his eyes?

This aunt was a huge reason I pushed Slappy to come back to California (Hi Mom! You were absolutely the other reason, please do not be offended). Simply put, she’s one of those people I just plain need to be around. I need her in my life. I need her to listen to me rant. I need her to get in the car with me when a family event turns into a yelling match. I need her to remind me why I keep having medical tests, even when I’m in insane amounts of pain and shedding endless tears of frustration. I need her to keep me grounded, I need her to keep me sane.

This aunt is more than an aunt to me. She’s a role model (again, minus the politics, because no, just no). She’s an inspiration. She’s a voice of reason. And she’s one of my very best friends.

I cannot imagine my life without her. I know I would not be the person I am today.

This aunt’s birthday is today. And since I’m stuck on a couch in Los Angeles, I can’t be there to hug her and assure her that of course I’m turning 19 this year and of course she’s turning 29. But I can tell her and all of you, that I love this lady with every fiber of my being. I hope someday that I can be a fraction of the mother, aunt and sister that this aunt is.

Happy birthday purplebreath. I love your stinking face off.

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