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Nah, just blood aunts and uncles, and their husbands and wives. As is often the case, I was often closer to the married-in uncles and aunts than the blood ones. My Aunt Mary's second husband, Uncle Wayne, was the steady rock of our extended family. He was a laid-back, even-tempered and gracious good-ol' boy dropped into the middle of a clan of semi-hysterical Portuguese-Americans. Everybody liked talking to Wayne -- he lived in the moment and was happy to be there. Practically zen. Perhaps it will complete the picture if I say that he worked with high explosives for much of his life.
One day Mom called me and said, "Well, Wayne died." "Oh, SHIT," I answered. There was a pause, and she said, "You're the third person I called, and everybody else said the same thing you just said."
Kind of a thread hijack, and I apologize, but it's been ten years and I still miss him.
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