10/11/15 Sunday morning

The journey continues, internal and external, with moments of quiet to take a breathe.

Fisherman, recreational but serious, I'm sure, in bright orange or yellow foul weather pants or dull brown pants or jeans, gather with their power boats, calling and hailing and pulling on lines. A perfect ritual for sunday morning...fishing...and the camaraderie that comes with that.

Learned last night that Lucille, my dad's cousin, had died. She was old, a good dying age so not the tragedy of youth passing. As I understand it, she introduced Dad and Mother to each other. Dad on leave from the Army, Mother a neighbor, Lucille had a little party at her house is the story I know. How very lucky for me.

Lucille was round. I expect she had a different shape as a young woman but I only remember her as round and with short hair. Her voice was big/loud but not offensive, just confident, and her smile was quick and large. I think her eyes were brown but they twinkled and held curiosity about you/me/the world. She was a ferocious reader. She and my mom often exchanged books and book reviews.

She lost a lot before she died. Her husband died years ago and she seemed to recover/go on from that loss focusing on grandchildren and her beloved dog and friends. She always joined the "Christmas in July" parties at my parents farm and was delighted and delightful. She survived several bouts of cancer but those survivals are always depleting...of energy and will, I think. Her eyesight deteriorated, finally to blindness, so her love of reading was nearly completely compromised. When she could no longer care for herself and that responsibility was to much for her friends and neighbors, she entered a nursing home. Thus, giving up her beloved, protective dog. I'm hoping one of her friends or children took him in. Then her son recently died of cancer.

So many losses. I wonder what she gained. I, perhaps we all, hope to gain something in exchange for the physical decline that is inevitable with our aging - if we are lucky enough to age. I know Lucille enjoyed her grands, having witnessed that when I happened to visit when they were visiting. I hope she found joy, peace, wisdome of some sort in her last years, months, days. I'll miss her and the possibility of her as I, we all, move on. Sending love to her daughter, Nancy, and the surviving family.