I closed the door to my Aunt Betty’s home for the last time today. Locked it up. Said goodbye to the cherry tree she loved so much. A few weeks ago, the grounds crew came and pruned the tree. Melinda and I cried, and as our tears flowed, we were ready to go to battle … Continue reading A Closed Door. An Open Book.
These hands… have played the great organs of Europe. have knitted Christmas stockings for an entire family. have baked banana, zucchini, and cranberry bread for the multitudes. These hands… have edited hundreds of newsletters. have played hand bells and numerous other instruments. have sewed clothes and embroidered pillowcases. These hands… have directed children’s choirs. have … Continue reading These Hands
I have spent the past two days going through scraps of paper in my Aunt Betty’s house. As she moves closer to the fullness of life beyond this temporary body, going through her things seems an invasion of privacy. Yet, I have learned a lot in these past two days. Going through scraps of paper … Continue reading Scraps of Paper
When I was a little girl, my Aunt Betty used to take us to the symphony. She is a music lover who wanted to pass her passion on to the next generation. She did that for my brother, sister, and me, since she never married or had children of her own. We were her charges, … Continue reading Aunt Betty