I got three emails this afternoon from my dear friend Martha's email address, only the title read, "Mother's Arrangements." I was busy doing other things... and then realized that Martha was in her 80's and her mother was unlikely to be alive. So I opened the email...
It was from Martha's daughter. Martha has passed. Frozen with shock, and sickened with regret... I wrote Julie back.
Martha and I "met" in a rather unconventional but lovely way. Martha's brother Don had been one of my regular bar customers at Outback. A kind, sweet soul, who spoke to me with the love and encouragement of a grandfather. And since my grandfathers were not nearby... I "adopted" Don as one. Don didn't drink. He came to the bar to talk with me. To visit and share his day. And it tickled me to see older ladies hitting on him... he still "had it!" I remember him showing me a beautiful ring he bought for his daughter and asking if I thought she'd like it.
Don lived with vigor. He and his fellow elderly bachelors gathered every summer in Florida for ladies and mischief. He had asked me incessantly to drive him that year. I had classes to attend, and working to do. I couldn't. Don hadn't returned for our usual cheerful conversations... so I began searching his name on the Internet. Don had died. Hopefully happy, perhaps even in the arms of a woman he had charmed. I didn't get to tell him how much he meant to me.
So I posted a letter expressing my love and adoration for Don on his memorial page through the funeral home. Martha read it and wrote back to me.
Martha and I were pen pals for the last 7 years. We shared the bond of love for her brother, Don. We shared life stories and laughter... through letters, cards and emails. She had stopped by Outback once, when she visited Don's grave, but I wasn't yet at work. So Martha and I never met in person. But, I loved her just the same.
My sweet Martha. What a lovely soul. What a generous spirit. I'll miss you, dear, and hope you passed peacefully... knowing that you touched my life, and hoping that I touched yours.
It was from Martha's daughter. Martha has passed. Frozen with shock, and sickened with regret... I wrote Julie back.
Martha and I "met" in a rather unconventional but lovely way. Martha's brother Don had been one of my regular bar customers at Outback. A kind, sweet soul, who spoke to me with the love and encouragement of a grandfather. And since my grandfathers were not nearby... I "adopted" Don as one. Don didn't drink. He came to the bar to talk with me. To visit and share his day. And it tickled me to see older ladies hitting on him... he still "had it!" I remember him showing me a beautiful ring he bought for his daughter and asking if I thought she'd like it.
Don lived with vigor. He and his fellow elderly bachelors gathered every summer in Florida for ladies and mischief. He had asked me incessantly to drive him that year. I had classes to attend, and working to do. I couldn't. Don hadn't returned for our usual cheerful conversations... so I began searching his name on the Internet. Don had died. Hopefully happy, perhaps even in the arms of a woman he had charmed. I didn't get to tell him how much he meant to me.
So I posted a letter expressing my love and adoration for Don on his memorial page through the funeral home. Martha read it and wrote back to me.
Martha and I were pen pals for the last 7 years. We shared the bond of love for her brother, Don. We shared life stories and laughter... through letters, cards and emails. She had stopped by Outback once, when she visited Don's grave, but I wasn't yet at work. So Martha and I never met in person. But, I loved her just the same.
My sweet Martha. What a lovely soul. What a generous spirit. I'll miss you, dear, and hope you passed peacefully... knowing that you touched my life, and hoping that I touched yours.
1 comment:
So often it seems we rob ourselves, or life robs us, of those last moments with someone special...as though there is great disloyalty, not "being there" at the end.
And yet it also seems that destiny has a part. We are meant to know some only in the fleeting moments, and we are wise to know them now...for life will not permit it at the end.
Even if we are there at the end, which is the greatest love? To love the living day-to-day, or lay a rose on the grave?
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