I've been moved today in two different ways. I'll start at the very beginning (*sing* a very good place to start)
Saying Goodbye
I was at the funeral of my dear Great Aunt Florence today. She died last week of some kidney complications at the age of 74. It was very sudden since she only went in for an ultrasound to find out why she had the stomach flu.
Though I have probably only been in her company a dozen times in my life, I have always admired her gentle, kind disposition.
You know those people who's smiles light up the room? They have that sparkle in their eye, as though they were meant to listen intently to your story and make you feel like you're the most important person in the room.
This was my Aunt Florence.
She was married to Uncle Tom, who was my dad's father Grandpa Wilmer's only brother.
I was very affected when my Grandpa Wilmer died. My sisters and I had spent a week with him at his new house in Port Hope. He had dropped us off at my parents' house on a Sunday. He had wandered around with my dad in the old house, giving suggestions about the electical situation. They made plans to fix it up together.
That afternoon, he and my grandmother drove home. And after dinner, he quietly went. As though he was
sleeping with his eye's open.
I remember meeting my Uncle Tom that day. He looked just like my grandpa and I thought that maybe he could be my grandpa now that mine had gone. Silly childhood thoughts. (My grandmother endedup marrying again to my Grandpa Ed who took us all in with open arms and has been the best, most supportive and funny grandpa a girl could ask for. I have actually known him longer than I knew my Grandpa Wilmer)
And I remember meeting Aunt Florence. I remember her holding my hand, supporting my Grandma, giving me a hug. I don't know how, out of all the people that were around during that horrible time, I remember her.
It was probably 10 years later when I saw them again - this time, at another funeral. I was 20 at the time and couldn't stop staring at Uncle Tom. It was spooky how much they looked alike.
And when I spoke to them at the end of the funeral, I tried to seem composed and stop staring. But I remember Aunt Florence giving a knowing smile and just knowing.
Even then, she seemed to understand my pain. A young lady who she had seen only a few times in her life. And yet still, she gave so much comfort.
I was fortunate enough to see her quite a few more times since that funeral seven years ago and I feel that she was exactly the person that I met at my grandfather's funeral. Kind. Gentle. Full of caring. So much friendlieness to give.
I will always remember her that way.
*********
A Different Kind of Goodbye
A Cup of Jen is another blog I have been reading lately. She is going through a bit of a transition in her life. I loved reading about it.
I wish you the best of luck, Jen. You should create a character out of what you're going through and write a novel. You are living the emotions that people will connect with. I know I'll keep reading.
Saying Goodbye
I was at the funeral of my dear Great Aunt Florence today. She died last week of some kidney complications at the age of 74. It was very sudden since she only went in for an ultrasound to find out why she had the stomach flu.
Though I have probably only been in her company a dozen times in my life, I have always admired her gentle, kind disposition.
You know those people who's smiles light up the room? They have that sparkle in their eye, as though they were meant to listen intently to your story and make you feel like you're the most important person in the room.
This was my Aunt Florence.
She was married to Uncle Tom, who was my dad's father Grandpa Wilmer's only brother.
I was very affected when my Grandpa Wilmer died. My sisters and I had spent a week with him at his new house in Port Hope. He had dropped us off at my parents' house on a Sunday. He had wandered around with my dad in the old house, giving suggestions about the electical situation. They made plans to fix it up together.
That afternoon, he and my grandmother drove home. And after dinner, he quietly went. As though he was
sleeping with his eye's open.
I remember meeting my Uncle Tom that day. He looked just like my grandpa and I thought that maybe he could be my grandpa now that mine had gone. Silly childhood thoughts. (My grandmother endedup marrying again to my Grandpa Ed who took us all in with open arms and has been the best, most supportive and funny grandpa a girl could ask for. I have actually known him longer than I knew my Grandpa Wilmer)
And I remember meeting Aunt Florence. I remember her holding my hand, supporting my Grandma, giving me a hug. I don't know how, out of all the people that were around during that horrible time, I remember her.
It was probably 10 years later when I saw them again - this time, at another funeral. I was 20 at the time and couldn't stop staring at Uncle Tom. It was spooky how much they looked alike.
And when I spoke to them at the end of the funeral, I tried to seem composed and stop staring. But I remember Aunt Florence giving a knowing smile and just knowing.
Even then, she seemed to understand my pain. A young lady who she had seen only a few times in her life. And yet still, she gave so much comfort.
I was fortunate enough to see her quite a few more times since that funeral seven years ago and I feel that she was exactly the person that I met at my grandfather's funeral. Kind. Gentle. Full of caring. So much friendlieness to give.
I will always remember her that way.
*********
A Different Kind of Goodbye
A Cup of Jen is another blog I have been reading lately. She is going through a bit of a transition in her life. I loved reading about it.
I wish you the best of luck, Jen. You should create a character out of what you're going through and write a novel. You are living the emotions that people will connect with. I know I'll keep reading.
Comments