When I was growing up, there were the aunties. Auntie Clara and Auntie Madeline are the two I remember. Auntie Madeline was my grandmother’s sister. She always played the piano at parties, and everyone sang along. Singing was traditional at all family parties. I can see still the crowd in the kitchen at my parent’s house singing St. Patrick’s Day songs. My father stood by the counter, and I loved to listen to him sing. He had a great voice as did my mother.

In time, my parents and their siblings became the aunties and uncles. My mother had seven siblings, my father two. My Uncle Jack led the chorus in the kitchen. He loved Bing and thought of himself as a vocal kin. He’d get a ride from one of his kids every Friday to my parents’ house. They played games and sang in the kitchen as always. Once in a while, on a Friday, I’d get a late call. I’d pick up the phone and hear, “Leenie, Leenie,” which my uncle called me. We’d chat a bit then he’d ask if I wanted a song. I always said yes. When I was in Ghana, my sister put together a mixed tape of songs from the radio so I’d know what was new. When I listened, all of a sudden I heard my Uncle Jack singing a Bing song. He had seen my sister taping and wanted in. It was the most wonderful surprise.

My cousins and my siblings are now the aunties and uncles with grown children and grands. I am Aunt Kat.

Yesterday my phone rang at 8:15. The machine came on before I could pick it up. My sister left a message, and her voice alerted me that something horrible must have happened. I thought my Uncle Jack had passed, but it wasn’t Uncle Jack. It was my nephew Michael who had turned 39 last week. My brother, his father, found him. Michael was my godson. I have no words. I forget for a minute then I remember. I didn’t think this year could get worse. I was so very wrong.

Yesterday the weather was dramatic. The rain was heavy and loud. It banged on storm doors and windows. When Henry wanted out, I opened the closed back door for him. I waited while he poked his head beyond the door jamb, got rained on then backed into the kitchen. Later, serendipitously, the rain stopped but only a while. Henry ran to his tree. He was there a long time.

The wind was tremendous last night. It howled and even whistled. When you added the rain, it was a night to stay close to hearth and home.

When I woke up, it was still raining and still a bit windy. The prediction is for a warm day with a high of 61˚ and a low tonight in the high 30’s. I’m not going anywhere.

When I was a kid, rainy days were not my favorite walk to school days. I got wet, and my shoes squished when I walked. My socks took on a life of their own. They got heavy, soddened with water, and if I took my shoes off, I left footprints on the wooden cloak room floor when I walked. I never thought of the easy solution of putting another pair of socks in my school bag.

I watch news channels on and off during the day. Their commercial breaks are long with commercial upon commercial upon commercial, no exaggeration. I have come to hate Car Shield. Its endless commercials are on both news channels. I know this because when I switch from one channel to the other, I can’t avoid Car Care.

The Globe had an op-ed about Voice of America being saved from a Trump wrecking crew which attempted to turn it into a Trump propaganda vehicle. I remember listening to the moon landing on VOA when I was in Ghana. We were all around the radio like a Walton scene in their living room where they listened to Edgar Bergen, the ventriloquist, with his characters Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd. I have always been perplexed as to a ventriloquist on the radio. How do you know?