Perhaps for some this isn't a big deal. She was my last aunt on either side of the family. The last uncle checked out in the 90s It's just me and my Sister. But the real story here goes back to my childhood. My Father would come home drinking and hit my Mother and me. He was a bit of a monster. We would wait until he passed out and go to my aunt Lajuana's House. She was my Father's Brother's Widow and for some reason he was calm with her. But she kept us safe. This was a common occurrence in my young life. She was our protector. And her son my cousin Cleve made me fall in love with history. Especially military history. He is actually a detective in Hawaii now. He's Hawaii 5-0 LOL He was my here, he got me started in martial arts. All the running from my Father stopped on my 16th Birthday when I was finally big and strong enough to stand up to him. He was a big man 6'2' 270lbs a Texas bar fighter when he wasn't beating on his family. But at 16 I was 6 feet 225lbs I called him out and there was a hell of a fight in our front yard. I hurt him bad. Bad enough that after he came home from the hospital he never offered to lay a hand on anyone in my family again. He barely raised his voice to us the rest of his life. Because I became the Protector Of my Mother and Sister. I suppose my aunt Lajuana gave me the identity that made me who I am. I love you Aunt Lajuana and thank you. Cleve and Ann thank you as well and I'm so sorry for your loss. I know those words mean nothing in a time lie this, but there's truly nothing you can say. She's reunited with my Mother now. They were best friends.