The hangover wasn’t severe
but the sun was blazing
on New Year’s morn
as we struggled crosstown
to brunch with my aged aunt
who was celebrating one of her many, many
manymanymany birthdays.
I tried to not look up
to stay in shadows
to keep still
until we got to her doorman building
and entered.

We hugged.
We spoke.
She cried
as she had for years
since her husband passed
and she remembered
again
in the face of senility.
I cheered her
as best I could
and we got on the road
to the restaurant
which was far too loud
for a man who had been out til three
the night before
on the Eve.

It was light conversation
since I could not do any heavy linguistic lifting
in the face of the brainal pains
I was experiencing.
The other people did their best
to pick up the slack
but my aunt cried again.
I closed my eyes
hoping it would all go away.

The meal was so inconvenient
for a partying person
who had just
hours before
made out with a girl
he had only met earlier in the evening.
I was practically a man
and I would have liked to still be in bed
dreaming of the drinks of yesterday
and thinking not of an elderly aunt
and her silly needs.

Eventually the afternoon ended
and we walked her home
(sun hid behind appreciated clouds)
bidding farewell to my aunt
as she went upstairs
to face the rest of the day
of her birth.
It may be the last time I saw her.