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Dorothy Marion Arevian, 1920-2018

A great blessing: my aunt drew her last breath last night at 9 p.m. with both my brother Michael and her dear friend May by her side. The last hours were peaceful; her face was serene.

It’s a gift to a child to have a childless aunt. She knitted and sewed doll’s clothes and sent a birthday card every single birthday from my earliest childhood until two years ago, when she couldn’t manage any more. She sent cards and cheques to my kids too. She had a phenomenal memory.

Her caregiver Pat and I just had a great laugh on the phone; we were talking about the hundred striped t-shirts lined up in her closet when she only wore two, the green one and the blue one. “Sometimes,” Pat said, “she wore the red one to Scrabble.”

Here she is, in the blue one, holding Edward Bruin Green with his hand-knitted clothes and his jaunty red bow. My mother Sylvia’s bear was named Donald Leonard Brown. He lives in my bedroom now.

Pat said, “She’s happy to be sitting up there with Sylvia.”
“They’re having a nice cup of tea,” I said.

Makes me cry.



5 Responses to “Dorothy Marion Arevian, 1920-2018”

  1. Unknown says:

    My condolences,Beth,how wonderful for you to have had the affection of such a lovely aunt.

  2. beth says:

    Thank you, Marlane, for letting me know this was you, and thank you for your good thoughts. Yes, I was very lucky to have been Do's niece for 68 years. She was a dear soul.

  3. Julia Z says:

    I'm sorry for your loss, Beth. I have loved reading about your relationship with Do these past couple of years (since I discovered your blog). You both brought each other such joy. Sending you my condolences.

  4. beth says:

    Thanks to you, Theresa and Julia. People have been so kind with their condolences; it does feel like there's companionship in loss and grief. She will be missed, but God, she had a long and a good run.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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