Passing

Our dear friend Joe Tarin called last night to tell us that he and Joan put down their sweet old dog, Bailey, yesterday. Bailey was the dog of Joe’s retirement, and those two were as deeply bonded as Jay and Charlie. Bailey had been sick for some time and had recently stopped eating. Yesterday he wouldn’t even drink, so it was time to let him go. Bailey and Charlie were similar in size, coloring, and disposition, but the really profound similarity was in their relationships with the men of their households. It’s a huge loss for Joe, and impossible not to think about how it will be for Jay to lose Charlie.  Charlie is a big part of my life, part of my daily routine and a beloved pal.  But Jay’s relationship with him is different, as Joe’s was with Bailey.  People who don’t live with dogs may not understand this grief, but it is as deep as any.

In the human realm, we are just back from a memorial service for my old friend Ore.  My late sister Shayne’s oldest daughter, Keely, married Ore’s son Seyi in 2007, just two years after Shayne died, and the same year that my husband Joe and Ore’s husband Ed both died.  So Ore and I met at a time of great joy over the marriage, and a time of deep grief.  In the intensity of all those emotions we formed a lasting bond, even though we spent little time together after that summer.  Ore had been battling a recurrence of cancer.  I never liked to think of dealing with cancer as a battle, but Ore did.  She fought it with the fierceness that was characteristic of her, a quality nearly everyone mentioned at her memorial.  

Ore had raised Seyi alone, first in England, and then in the US.  Her family was Nigerian, and like many Nigerian kids she had been sent to England to boarding school. Our family is so much richer for being linked to hers, and I’m so much richer for having known her.  For Seyi, the loss is staggering.  Ore wasn’t always easy to deal with – in fact, she was probably never what you would call easy to deal with.  She was fierce.  But she and Seyi were a unit, with that tight bond of only children raised by single parents.

But in the darkness of loss, there is stunning light.  The delight of going to the memorial was that I got to see Keely and Seyi’s two amazing children, and their three cousins who are also Shayne’s grandchildren.  Lilah, the oldest of the cousins at 11 is taller than me, willowy, and astonishingly poised.  The line from Shayne through Keely to Lilah is easy to see, and it’s heartbreaking that Shayne didn’t live to see it.  But we three sisters were there to kvell over her amazing grandchildren, to wrap Keely and Seyi in our love, and to celebrate Ore’s life.  Keely and Seyi had dated in high school, so I’m sure Shayne knew Ore, but I don’t know anything about the relationship between those two strong women.  

We stayed in a lovely, peaceful place in Maryland, just a few minutes from the DC location of the memorial gathering.  We have not forgotten urban traffic, but still, arriving in the DC area early in Friday rush hour felt like going to another country.  We headed home in the quiet of Sunday morning, and within half an hour we were out in big open country.  It’s mostly a beautiful drive through Pennsylvania, long, but beautiful. One of the young guys working on our place house sat for us while we were away, so Charlie and Hazel had been well looked after.  Still, Charlie was clearly glad to have us back home.  Harder to tell with Hazel.

Cooperstown has shifted down into winter since the last time I wrote.  The film festival is over and the Christmas decorations are going up.  The snow birds are starting to leave town, including Peter and Aviva who leave next week.  It’s quieter at the gym, although I still have to sign up early to get into my popular aqua aerobics class.  The farmers’ market is starting to thin out, with fewer people and a narrower selection.  It’s still noisy and cozy at Stagecoach coffee, but other businesses will start closing for the winter soon.  Business doesn’t slow down for the undertaker, our friend Martin Tillapaugh. He was visiting at every table at Stagecoach the other day, and Stagecoach owner, Matt Grady asked him if he was evaluating potential customers.

Jay is cooking winter food, lima beans with kale and ham.  We’ll snuggle down into the cold winter months, with Charlie sleeping in the warmth between us and Hazel finding various warm spots next to one of our heads or down at our feet.  I can’t imagine our life without Charlie, and right now, I’m thankful I don’t have to.