My Aunt Renee

This past weekend was also a great family time for many of the Davis clan as we gathered to celebrate the life of Renee Davis. My uncle Jim's wife of nearly 50 years passed away in April and he hosted a memorial service Saturday in Lake Geneva, WI. It was a wonderful time of sharing stories, laughing (we're Davis' after all) and talking about Renee, but it was also an eye-opener for me. I learned so many things about Renee that never knew, including her years as a big-band dancer and singer and even some business ventures including her own shoe store in Long Grove, IL.
Honestly, to me growing up as a child she was pretty intimidating and rarely gave off the aura that she enjoyed having us kids around. What I remember most was her constantly tan appearance, her sense of style with the clothes and hats she wore, and stories or first-hand experiences with her cooking. Some of my older cousins (my mom is the youngest of the Davis siblings...) knew her a bit better and had interesting stories about her from their childhood, but I kinda missed out on that. I'm sure Meg and Jon feel even more the same way.
But in the end, the memories that I will carry with me about her will be altered to include those that I learned about only after her passing, and on a weekend when I heard uncle Jim and their son Bob both echo one of her dying thoughts to all of us. She wanted to us gather together and have a good time, not mourn her collectively. And that's exactly what we did.
We drank, then drank some more. We had a fabulous dinner at the Geneva Inn on the shore of Lake Geneva Saturday night surrounded by family and friends. We connected with relatives we haven't seen in some time, and met lots of Jim and Renee's friends who each had different but similar stories about aunt Renee.
I guess I wish I had known her when I was at an age where it would make a difference, like now.
I'm glad I got to hear her life story told by those who had front-row seats.
And I will think often of her, and of my uncle Jim who loved her so.