I can take Lynne outside alone, so in heavy rain we quietly drove to the lakefront and around town playing Christmas & folk music. She focused on passing scenes with memories of walks and restaurants. Caregivers found her missing birthday dress.
She clicked into her front seatbelt. We liked seeing Cal Anderson Park swept clean again and hoped the neighborhood could find peace. We sipped Dick’s vanilla milkshakes. We drove past her former home. She remembered times at closed restaurants close by, her boys playing along the shoreline, Uncle Ike’s. She laughed when I reminded her she walked me downhill to the Lake so fast we had to turn around so I could get back up. Finally, she carried her heavy Christmas wreath of green and red bells up her room.
Lynne and I wanted to give Aunt Jane a birthday present on her 82nd birthday. She is my sister and Lynne’s cherished Aunt who had the courage to throw off society’s expectations of housewives, and serve the under privileged. She lobbied for compassionate legislation for children with handicaps in Colorado, lived with children in impoverished orphanages in Mexico, counseled Guatemalan refugees who fled the genocides in Guatemala until she returned with them broker peaceful returns to distrusting survivors. Along with those missions, she inspired her entire family to reunite and embrace her independence. I gave Lynne the phone so she could sing happy birthday to her while I shouted it through the plexiglass in the Aegis Outdoor Living Room. Then Lynne had a private conversation with her. Jane is a talker. Lynne is a listener. She focused on every word. I heard Lynne’s responses: “Oh, yeah.” I’m not sure.” “Well, I have a lot of friends here.” “It is what it is.” “I can see family.” “I get out and do things.” “I’m never sure.” “They have us do things, you know.” Suddenly Lynne said, “Oh, no!” She put her hand over the phone and said to me, “Cat broke her toe.” Cat is Lynne’s cousin, a nurse. I asked, “Is she still working?” “Oh yes.” Finally, she tired and handed the phone back to me. Jane said, “We had a great conversation. She’s handling it so well, accepting what is.” And that inspiration was another gift Lynne gave Aunt Jane. And me. And everyone.
