My Seussical Life for 2006 April 24

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.