She died just a few days after this picture was taken, just before New Year's. Among her many ailments (not that she was one to complain), her heart wasn't well, and near as they can tell, it gave out shortly after she got out of bed one morning. Her end was quick; she would have wanted it that way.
Tiny-framed and feisty, she was never one to take any guff. She left behind six of her eight children, a score of grandchildren and about that many great-grandchildren.
She had a faith I envy. Sure of her Lord, and her place in His house - I hope and pray she is safely there. She was one of those daily mass attending people. A daily dose of God, a matching dollop of time with her good friends, church was a home and a refuge for her.
I wish I would have known her better.
One of the problems with large families is that when you do get together, there tends to be fifty people around. Surrounded by people I grew up with, people I love, I get just a few minutes with each. How are the kids, what's up with work, how's the rest of the family? I love these potlucks, though I have to say our generation is not up to the standards set by our aunts when we were young, anything new in your life?
And about that time, my attention shifts to someone else I haven't seen for a while, and I move on. So many people, so little time. Usually I settle down with someone for a deeper conversation, for 20-30 minutes, but given that I see them just once every year or two, we barely scratch the surface before the food gets packed up and everyone heads on out.
Still, a little time is better than none, and I remember my last conversation with Aunt Florence with fondness. It will have to be enough.
Rest in Peace, my dear.
Until we meet again...
No comments:
Post a Comment