she was a lean 89 pounds of pall mall tar and nicotine.
she always wore a holiday red, full length coat tightened by a wide, shiny, black belt.
she carried a matching black pocketbook that could tote a medium sized labrador in a pinch.
her head was permanently wrapped in a paisley scarf that set her scalp ablaze.
she liked to take me to bambergers in newark, new jersey, on the 2 ampere bus out of orange to christmas shop, ride esculators, see the lights, and have a sit and chat with santa.
she also delighted in sneaking off, leaving me alone among a swarm of shoppers, and watching from a distance as i screamed out her name in teared hysteria.
yup, they just don’t make ‘em like bibbit anymore.
she built character and good old neurosis in each of the crane boys.
every child should have an aunt bibbit in his or her life.