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Monday, December 29, 2014

Goodbye and God Speed, Ellie

I had a trip to yesteryear when I was so young and naive,
  but now that I'm old and looking back
      it is nearer than previously perceived


Yesterday I went to a wake for an old neighbor of mine. I very much have a problem attending wakes and funerals, even as a woman with a devout faith. It isn't that I fear seeing the deceased nor contemplating my own demise. I have a hard time watching people in pain like those that are grieving. Yesterday was different, though. While I was sitting there amidst the women that I grew up with I was reminded of the Thornton Wilder play, "Our Town," which is actually a personal favorite of mine.

The first thing that struck me was the strength and gratitude of Ellie's daughters, Maureen, Susan, Janet and Carolyn. It was funny but all of them said two things that resonated with me throughout the afternoon. The first was that Ellie, after 22 years, was once again with her husband, Frank, for Christmas. Before Frank had died, all those years ago, I used to sit at their kitchen table and watch them talk to each other. They were always smiling and the love was just so evident in their eyes as they looked at each other. They were my friends' parents, but in a way they were my parents too. (I should mention that I was a permanent fixture at their house for much of my childhood and teens.)

The other thing they all remembered was my parents taking their evening sabbatical, as they called it, around the neighborhood. All of the girls remembered them walking hand in hand down the paved streets of Annadale. They did it every evening after dinner. Every one of Ellie's daughters, as well as my other childhood friends, mentioned not only that but how caring and kind my parents were. Yup. They were. In a way, my parents were my friends' parents too. We all knew that if our own were not home that we could go to Ellie and Frank, Peggy and Ray or Loretta and Bill and that we would be safe and cared for. In turn, my friends could come to Evelyn and Joe. All of them are gone now except for Loretta. I saw her for the first time in a very long time yesterday. The way that she greeted me felt like I was coming home. I haven't felt that way since my own mom hugged me in her arms over 20 years ago.

Throughout the afternoon the one thing that resonated with all of my childhood friends and I was that we were truly blessed to have grown up with the people that we did. Those wonderful couples raised hard-working, respectable kids that have grown and passed on those principles to their own children. Those same homes that once belonged to Evelyn and Joe, Peggy and Ray and Ellie and Frank now house their children and even their adult grand children. The neighborhood hasn't changed much in appearance, well maybe a little bit, but the love of the greatest generation is still alive and well in the next generations. As a neighborhood we shared our joys and our sorrows and lived each day for our families and each other. We were truly blessed to have grown up in our little town of Annadale, surrounded by an incredible bond of the love, caring and loyalty of our neighbors.  It is something sorely lacking in so many neighborhoods today, including my "new" one.

As the last echoes of my childhood drift in my memory I'm struck by the fact that those same memories that I cherish are the same ones that my friends have. My bucolic, safe neighborhood of my childhood will always be not only a memory but a part of the woman that I have become.

Thanks Ellie. You will be missed as all people that emanate and embody love are. You were a treasure. Say hi to Frank for me.

Peace,

Mare

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