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[Comments] (3) By and by black night doth take away. . .: I talked to Aunt Frances yesterday. It sounds like the sickness that has encroached upon her life for (has it been?) over ten years now is unrelenting now. I agree with Rachel that there is a WWI metaphor in all of this somewhere. Frances asked me to read Shakespeare's 73rd sonnet at her funeral. Is it really time to talk about that sad day? I keep thinking about her brave recitation of "Ulysses" at Aunt Jeunie's funeral. She read all those lines of Tennyson without shedding a single tear. How can I do so well? I'm lucky I only have fourteen lines to remember and get through without dissolving into tears. Franny did have some advice for me: "Inject your veins with ice water." Is there a clean way to inject into the jugular?

Frances has done some very significant mothering on my behalf throughout my life. I feel so much love for her. One favorite memory, which stands in my mind more as a feeling than a memory, was during a road trip from California to Utah as part of Grandpa Earl's funeral. I think I was seven. Frances was so comforting, and she shared a treat of dried prunes and apricots with me. This might seem a very inconsequential moment, but my memory is of how special she made me feel. I love my Aunt Frances.


Posted by Susie at Mon Apr 24 2006 09:14

Oh, we planned her funeral a little while ago... I guess I should have warned you of your sonneting. You're already on the program!

You know, she thinks you're the best.

Posted by Sabine at Mon Apr 24 2006 09:47

Big hug.


Posted by Rachel at Mon Apr 24 2006 12:08

Mom has a picture of you on her bookshelf and everyone asks who the beautiful young lady is!

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