The Pickle Crisis

Jane made some fantabulous bread and butter pickles, and a quart was mine if I could figure out how to transport them back to Washington after our week of mourning, laughing, remembering, sighing, and talking about Josephine. Mail them. Sneak them through airport security. Would they go through airport security? Consult the TSA page. How to package to protect? Would they explode in the hold of the plane if I checked the bag? Oh the wonders the Taylor's can talk about -- for hours.

The death of a sibling brings out the deep and the mundane.

Josephine wasn't the first sibling to die. James died first, died young, unexpectedly. It was an outrageous death, an anomaly, out of sequence. You are stunned. You can't believe your 42 year old baby brother can die of a massive heart attack. Who ever said the first sibling to go was the hardest spoke the truth.

James' was hard, Josephine's was blessed. Surrounded by her loved ones, her son on one side, her daughter on the other, grandchildren in attendance. Family holding her hands, touching and stroking her with loving caresses, saying goodbye. Scott told me his mother had been preparing him for her death for a long, long time. Josephine had been sick for years, losing the quality of life she cherished so, bedridden and in pain, the oldest sibling, in sequence, a direct line of family.

Her memorial service at the little country church was perfect; perfect service, perfect flowers, perfect family love. Small, intimate, simple, quiet, well, mostly quiet, except for the driving fast and pushing over the outhouse part. Tears welling as Scott spoke his tribute, Curtis his memories, with maybe a few regrets, mentioning the things he was hearing that he didn't know about Josephine, telling us things we didn't know. How she continued to surprise and delight him. Josephine's four year old great grandson, Tanner, quietly sitting on the pew playing some game. I had to smile when he told his daddy, quietly, that he was going to go to the fourth level. Times have changed with keeping four year olds entertained in church. A perfect service, perfect flowers, perfect family, what a blessing.

Josephine wasn't the first sibling to die, it just felt like it. Now we know we are all going to go, she was proof of that, the stamp of inevitability. There she was taking point for all of her siblings, she always was fearless.

God bless Josephine.

A weekend to remember as siblings gathered: dinners, get togethers, chats, lunches, snacks, brunches. The Oklahoma weather; 19 degrees with a 45 mile an hour north wind blowing to 75 degrees sitting in the sunshine in Jerry and Jane's back yard. Jean provided me with a perfect nest for my days in her home. Watching squirrels, birds, wind, the neighbors clean out their shed for big trash pick-up day. Lots of family time, doing nothing in particular except talk, laugh, reminisce, catch-up. Chris wandering through. Brittany chauffeuring, hauling, fixing, attending needs and everything else. Seventy-two dollars worth of Ingrid's danishes that someone ate, strep throat, studying, Dax is a really good dog, Dunkin Donuts decaffeinated coffee - every night. Taylor won't be a starving artist living in an attic in New York City that is for the uneducated. He has two degrees. Did you know you could buy a gallon of sweet tea at the fast food restaurant in Oklahoma? Jerry sitting at the table emailing Jane a reminder who was sitting across the room. Family, the power of family, the love of family. Lots of family time.

My mind went home on Sunday, I just had to get my body back on Monday. It took a village. When I got home I had a voice message reminding me I had flight 202 from OK to WA, oops too late. It is back to my life now; Connor, family, book club, work, trudging up the hill, gassing up the car, grocery shopping, all that life maintenance stuff.

Some of us are preparing to head to Janice's next week for her birthday. When I invited Julia and Tal to Washington for a visit, Tal mentioned the trips he had coming up before he could consider a WA trip. He had a trip to Ray Roberts State Park in Texas, a trip to Greenleaf in October, a trip to Costa Rica in November, and he did believe he had a fishing trip to the White River before he could come see me. Fishing trip my patootie! Hey Tal, did you ever think about volunteering your time to a charity, your people skills are so awesome. 

When your worst worry in life is whether or not the pickles will survive a flight -- life is pretty good. Jane the pickles are outstanding, delicious, and I do believe there is a pepper in there.

I don't want to be the last sibling standing.