October 10, 2010; The Great Passage

Dear, dear Dee (Ceecee's letter began)

I am so sorry I have not written in the last few days but I have been going through a rather hard time. One of my old dears, quite suddenly, went to her end. We were all watching television when with a quiet, little sigh Milly, the youngest of the two sisters, was gone. I noticed first and went over to her on the couch, smelled for her peppermint breath and knew and then Winnie looked at me and knew as well.

Then there was all the folderol, as Winnie calls it, and now there are the realities. Winnie wishes to continue living here and alone but she is very, very old and her children and Milly's worry for her. But she won't hear of going into "one of those places" especially since it means she might have to leave me behind.

I will keep you posted but times are very hard and Winnie needs me so much.

Much, much love

Ceecee

Strangely, something happened and I shared it with my sister in my next e-mail.

Beloved Ceecee

I am so, so sorry for your loss and also for Winnie's. But, as you know from reading this blog, nothing really ends, does it?

But I want to tell you a story. I was walking with Skeeter this morning and we came across a young girl sweeping leaves in front of her house. She immediately said hello to me, of course, and then to Skeeter. As she petted me, a black lab-like mutt, who had been sleeping on the verandah in the autumn sun, woke, stretched and joined us. As he descended the three small steps he whimpered—almost inaudibly. Skeeter started cuddling him, which normally drives me mad (if I am not getting like attention from someone), and asked the girl, "How old is he?" She said, "Just slightly younger than me: twelve." Skeeter kissed the dog and the dog whimpered again and the child noticed and said, "Silly old thing!"

Then the ancient said to me, "I'm so worried for her. My time is coming and she's known me all her life. She loves me much, as I do her. But it's time. I see a youngster like you and I know I must make room. The world must turn. Life is better if it is lovely memories."

"Yes," I murmured, "but it's a hard lesson for a little girl.

"Yes. However, every animal comprehends life and the Great Passage at its own speed," the big black dog said, now leaning with fatigue against Skeeter. "It is the wisdom of the universe that humans, who take longer to understand, have longer lives as well. And so they can prepare and prepare their children." The lab sighed with exhaustion and whispered, "The world must turn. Room must be made."

And then we were done. Skeeter said goodbye to the girl and the old dog whimpered again as he went to his place on the verandah. Skeeter said, "Lovely and sad," and then we were quiet.

My message to you, Dearheart, is this: Winnie's heart is broken but she was prepared by the passage of time. And the wisdom of the universe put you there, with her, now, when she needs you. And you are young.

I return your love and double it.

Dee