My maternal Aunt was an amazing woman in her own right; she had other things to overcome (a northern Catholic convert married into a very old Southern Jewish family in the 50s). She was first chair viola with the Charleston Philharmonic and had wonderful stories (including the time they managed to set the symphony hall on fire during a performance of the 1812 Overture). Like they do to me, inanimate objects often attacked her for no good reason. We both loved old first editions, even - or especially - not particularly rare or valuable ones. She died 12 years ago, and I still find myself thinking, "I should send this to H! She'd love it! Oh." I miss her.
These two Aunts are my husband's, but I have their permission to claim them as mine as well 
One thing cramping an Aunt's "gay lifestyle" - she has to give up knitting for a bit due to bursitis, but on the other hand, it'll give her more time to read. Pretty decadent stuff!
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