The email came yesterday:
“I’m sad to greet you with the news that my darling Sally died in her bed at home on Thursday morning, August 18, 2011, ending her fourteen-year spiral into dementia. We’ve taken Sally back to her beloved University where she’ll contribute to research into neurodegenerative disease, and we’ll go from there to her favourite swimming rock at the cottage – so there’ll be no formal funeral. I’ll contact friends soon about a memorial gathering here at the house.
Go well dear friend, gentle, kind Sally
lover of art,
cooking [diploma from le Cordon Bleu in Paris]
Not fair, not right
your one life cut so short.
I’m thankful I visited you in June
I’m not sure what you saw
through all that fog.
When you opened one eye
as I kissed you goodbye.
I hope it was me.
I know you can hear me now,
I also know you’re not alone,
that my Mother’s already part of the welcoming committee
up there, offering words of comfort to new arrivals like
you, while charming folks like Amy Winehouse, and Betty Ford,
and that gives me comfort in my grief.
Cheerio Sally, I look forward to seeing you
in my dreams.