She was ninety-something years old. Though her body had become frail and her mind was beginning to betray her age, her spirit never faltered. To her last, she would always have a smile, share a laugh, or tell a story to anyone who might be willing to listen.
Over the decades, she tried to find the positive in anything, even when it was hard. And if there was truly nothing positive, she’d still take it as a challenge to overcome and a story to tell when it was over. She definitively knew what she was doing and by golly she’d do it her way, but she recognized some people were different and did not pass judgment upon them, lest she be judged.
It was Easter Sunday when she passed. A day of significance in her religion, and almost four months to the day after her late husband had passed. Up until his death, it seemed she was unshakeable. After, her frailty became apparent far too quickly, to the sorrow of those around her. She had a smile smile as she did, peaceful in her faith.
And she is missed.
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