A small tribute to Sally

Earlier today, Mom told me that Sally has taken a turn for the worse. I wrote about Sally a little bit ago, although I didn't talk much about her specifically. After talking to Mom today, suddenly I realize that I'm amazed at how she lived her life.

Technically, Sally is my first cousin, twice removed, but I always called her Aunt Sally. She was always a bit more glamourous, classier than my other relatives. Her house just seemed a bit fancier, a bit nicer than the rest of ours. She had gardens and served interesting food. She would go dancing with Mel and regularly dress up. 

As I got older, I realized that she wasn't really that different. Her daughter got pregnant young, too young, and Sally and Mel basically raised their granddaughter. That there were bad choices around her life and with her immediate family. But, you know, it was always okay. I don't remember any judgment, ever, from her. This was the way it was and wasn't that wonderful! Please come to dinner soon. It wasn't denial; it was just complete, unquestioning acceptance. 

I am looking at her life and how she handled everything that came her way, and I am just full of admiration. She and Mel, they would just handle it all. When I would come to Toledo, of course, I had a place to stay. After Nana's funeral, Mel says softly to me, "It's been a rough day; come over to the house and we'll hoist a few." Another memory: I don't even remember the visit (a wedding? a reunion?) but we sat their living room, talking until 2 in the morning, eating oranges.

Even the past few months, when she was obviously getting very sick, no complaining, so fussing. She was grateful for the 57 years that she and Mel had. She just hopes the girls handle everything okay and that someone takes good care of her dog. Oh, she feels fine, just been losing her balance a bit now and again. 

Today Mom told me that Sally slipped into a coma and it probably won't be long. I looked out on this sunny day thinking that even on a beautiful day like today, right on the edge of spring, someone is losing a mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother. And I realized that, although I am really sad about this, I can't imagine someone facing life and death better than Sally faced it all.