Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Mrs Thing

I just got word today that Mrs Thing died on May 15th.  I shall miss her. 

Robert Heinlein once said (paraphrasing, here) that anyone could paint a picture of a pretty girl.  A good artist could make others see, in the picture of a pretty girl, the old woman she will become someday.  However, it takes a great artist to look at an old woman and see the pretty girl she once was.  It took no effort to see the pretty girl in Mrs Thing.  Her beauty shone forth, no matter her age, which was considerable.  She was into the second half of her 90s.  There are those who think anyone her age is well past her sell-by date, but she brought me a lot of joy.

She used to live in the vicinity Pittsburgh, and moved to (I think) Kansas, later on.  Her sons moved her down here a decade or so ago, and she bought a house in Sun City.  Mrs Thing was not really the Sun City type; not given to cocktails, golf, tennis or tap dancing.  And, when Lou and Kaye took her up to Kansas to visit, her friends were either too infirm to entertain her, or had already passed on.

She lived with Lou and Kaye until she broke her hip this past Spring, and moved into a residence for physical therapy. 

When she lived at Kaye's, I was hired occasionally to stay with her, in order for her 24/7 caregivers to have some time off.  Now, I wish I had done more with her, but it was difficult to get her out of the Miata once she was installed in it.  I took her for a nice long drive once, and she enjoyed it.  However, as she became more fragile, I was scared to take her out.  What if something happened?  I know CPR, but I have no training in prying the elderly out of sports cars.

So, I'm sad.  I am going to miss her.  I am angry, too.  I know I was just a paid "granny sitter," but I would like to have been told in a timely fashion.  Whatever send-off they had for her, I would like to have attended.

Now I shall raise a wine cooler in her honour, and wish her a pleasant journey.  If there were an afterlife, I'd like to think that St Peter picked her up in a sports car.

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