I’m sitting on the floor at lovely Frieda’s house, with whom I’m staying til departure. I am surrounded by neat piles of clothes, her scale and miscellany, wearing my red fleece bathrobe and a vintage rabbit fur hat that is one part Elmer Fudd and one part Russian. Ah, packing. I’m exhausted, probably self-inflicted for being so damn emotive. The scale is to weigh the disparate bags that I’m packing. Am down to 8 lbs. of summer clothes! Am planning to wear many layers of clothing on the plane to offset luggage weight. Am so ready to leave, tired of saying goodbye’s and explaining what/where/when. Am whining. Am writing like Bridget Jones wanna-be. Am, or perhaps have, lost mind.

The remainder of the trip down the eastern seaboard went well. After NYC, I went to DC, to visit Nanny and got the bonus of time with my cousin, Kelly and her charming husband, Jae. They were asking about winters in CO, wondering if they’d enjoy moving here, but are worried about the weather. The weather here?! It was sleeting and freezing in DC, which one knows will be followed by a steamy and dank summer. I’m not sure who’s doing the PR for CO weather, but they need a new marketing campaign. Actually, with the number of people moving here, I guess we need to keep up the subterfuge regarding the weather.

In DC, I visited with Nanny in her nursing home, the aptly named, “Sleepy Hollow.” It is a surprising name, as it seems to me that many such facilities prefer more euphemistic names, such as “Golden Sunsets.” It was a good visit, she knew who I was and was happy to see me. I’m not sure if I’ll see her again alive and that is difficult.

Then, I took Amtrak to NC, where Mom picked me up at the lovely Cary train depot. I must admit to a bad attitude about the ‘burbs. We traveled farther south to SC, to visit WONDERFUL, INSPIRATIONAL, FANTABULOSO Great Aunt Eva. She is so much a hero to me. Her attitude, spirit and sense of humor, at any age but particularly at 85, give me such joy and hope about growing old. Before we arrived at Aunt Eva’s house in Great Falls, SC, we visited to other great aunts, Theo and Sadie, both residing at Bethea Baptist Home, a wonderful facility for white Southern Baptists.

Aunt Theo is 97 and she told us this visit that she’s tired and ready to go to heaven. Aunt Theo never married and lived a very full life, first working all over the southeast as a nurse, and then in retirement, traveling with her church and with friends. We always spend a lot of time during our visits looking at her carefully put together photo albums and hearing her stories. Sadie is the 92 year old matriarch of a large family and an avid seamstress. While it was difficult to hear Aunt Theo talk about being ready to go to heaven, it also is good to hear someone be clear about dying and even really for someone to talk about it at all.

A Southern tradition that I just recently learned is that of buying and erecting one’s tombstone before one passes. The name and birth date are carved in, awaiting the final date. The first time I saw Aunt Theo’s it creeped me out, but now I see the practicality and control that it gives a person. Aunt Eva, who takes care of Aunt Theo since she doesn’t have any children to do so and because Eva is the baby girl of that generation, told Mom and me that Theo has already picked out her burial outfit and what she wants in the coffin with her.

After SC, we returned North. We had a party with many of my parent’s friends who have known me since I was a lil’ girl. That was a lot of fun and everyone was super interested and supportive. Ken, our old next door neighbor, had the funniest comment: “Wendy, (say with good sized drawl) do people ask you all the time what the fuck you think you’re doing?” referring to going to work in some God-forsaken part of the world where they probably hate Americans.

It may be cheezy, but I think I will draw substantial amount of comfort and imagined support thinking back on these travels when I am far far away from home.

love,
wlu