A Life Well Lived

 

I’ve come home from my friend's burial at a cemetery Near Philadelphia; she was laid to rest with her birth mother, her father and stepmother and her sister, at her request. 

Her son Glenn conducted a very simple service. All of her five children were there, four of them with their spouses and Deborah with her partner whom she will marry this autumn. They are all such nice people, each of them making the effort to come and welcome me. Her very pregnant oldest granddaughter was also present, and her sister and two nieces.

Dorothy had died in North Carolina on January 26. Debbie had been in frequent contact with me since about ten days prior to that. She had been terribly, terribly ill with a gynecological cancer and she also had dementia. 

Dorothy and I met in high school and after graduation, commuted to the city together where we worked as secretaries. We spent some summer weekends in Ocean City and at one point took a week-long cruise to Bermuda, among other assorted adventures. She was a good friend.

When Joe and I married, Dorothy was in training for her Peace Corps stint in Tanzania and was unable to attend our wedding. She sent me a little package, though, that contained the traditional "something old, etc." The Something New was a lovely white handkerchief that  I carried with my bouquet. This morning I had the presence of mind to find it, neatly pressed, in my drawer. I gave it to Debbie to carry when she marries Emily in October.

Dorothy didn’t want a whole lot from life: a good husband, children, and a meaningful connection with church, and she achieved them all. I mentioned this to Debbie who replied that Dorothy had said during the last week of her life that she had no regrets; she’d done everything she wanted to do.