One that had learned how to live.
Aug. 1st, 2001 12:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reynardoSaid goodbye to a wonderful lady yesterday. My son's great-aunt, she had been the one in his father's family who was first to accept and be genuinely happy that after the father and I split, I had gotten on with life. She was thrilled when I got engaged. She and I stirred each other, threatened to take each other out nightclubbing and bungy-jumping, and we loved each other heaps. She had been a war bride, lost her husband in the late 70s and still missed him.
Two weeks ago, she looked better than she had for ages, and was delighted to be invited to our wedding next year. I was so happy to be able to ask her.
Yesterday was her funeral.
Mind you, 80 years of living it up does take it out of you. She's had heart troubles and leg ulcers, emphysema and blood pressure hassles. I'd spent a while visiting her in hospital earlier this year when the ulcer was acting up and there was a good chance they might have to amputate her leg. She was (for once) depressed, and I was glad to be able to hug her and hold her and be her support for a while. I had a Rita Hayworth poster that I sent for when she moved into the retirement village, with the quote "You know nothing about wickedness" and Rita in a long black sexy velvet dress. Somehow it was entirely appropriate.
When I got the phone call on Thursday, it was a surprise, but not entirely unexpected. The whiskey and the cigarettes and the health problems had ensured that. I couldn't really cry at her funeral. All I could think of was the wonderful life she'd led and how she'd done it, as the preacher said, in abundance.
I hope that when I go, it can be said that I lived as well, and enjoyed life as much.
But I still want her at my wedding.
Two weeks ago, she looked better than she had for ages, and was delighted to be invited to our wedding next year. I was so happy to be able to ask her.
Yesterday was her funeral.
Mind you, 80 years of living it up does take it out of you. She's had heart troubles and leg ulcers, emphysema and blood pressure hassles. I'd spent a while visiting her in hospital earlier this year when the ulcer was acting up and there was a good chance they might have to amputate her leg. She was (for once) depressed, and I was glad to be able to hug her and hold her and be her support for a while. I had a Rita Hayworth poster that I sent for when she moved into the retirement village, with the quote "You know nothing about wickedness" and Rita in a long black sexy velvet dress. Somehow it was entirely appropriate.
When I got the phone call on Thursday, it was a surprise, but not entirely unexpected. The whiskey and the cigarettes and the health problems had ensured that. I couldn't really cry at her funeral. All I could think of was the wonderful life she'd led and how she'd done it, as the preacher said, in abundance.
I hope that when I go, it can be said that I lived as well, and enjoyed life as much.
But I still want her at my wedding.
