When I was young, I was in and out of her house like one of her own kids as her daughter Lisa was one year older than me, and we were best friends. Lisa died in a tragic accident at the age of 16, and it was a long road back from emotional estrangement for all of us. I reminded her of Lisa, and she reminded me of Lisa, and there was pain. For the past decade tough, I'd see Mrs. C when walking the dogs, and on the occasions that she needed a little help. We put her dog to sleep together, and I cared for her pets when she faced many hospital stays in recent years. We laughed about things on the street and in the world, she showed me pictures of her grandchildren, and shared a great love of dogs. Her house, with the kitchen light on, looms iconic on the street and is full of childhood memories. While she has been hospitalized for some time and the house stood empty, it was waiting for her return. Now it seems cold and lonely. Death is so sad.
Add to this another sudden death this week of the husband of a dear friend. I am ready to lock myself into my sewing room and sew for a month. Alone. Doesn't matter what I sew, I just need to distract myself. This summer has been tough -- losing Tobes, and then three significant deaths that have affected people I care about. Tilly being really ill, too. Am working on my artwork, but seems to be a lot of other things that need doing, too.
As I write this, my little green feathered pickle is being exceptionally sweet on my shoulder, reminding me that I have to get going and feed the flock. With them around, I will never slack off completely, which is a good thing.
RIP, Mrs. C. You are missed.