|At 18. High school senior picture. WWII|
No RIP for her. She didn't want to sit in a rocking chair and watch the world go by. She was always in motion. Even when watching TV, she was doing needlepoint or crochet or piecing quilts or working crossword puzzles.
She hated the label "senior citizen" and all of the similar words used to describe someone elderly. She didn't want to grow old gracefully. In fact, she didn't want to grow old at all. But then, who does?
She was a beautiful woman and kept her looks until the end. She didn't leave home unless her hair was styled and her makeup was on. She grew up in the era of red lipstick. Until her dying day, she never went anywhere without her lipstick.
On an awful January day, she was taken to the hospital. A block from the emergency room, she dug through her purse, pulled out her lipstick, and applied it. Everyone in the family smiled when I told them that little story because they could see her doing exactly that. They all knew her and her foibles, and they loved her.
My mother was beloved, and she is missed, today and everyday.