It's 2010 already. I shall start it by remembering my Auntie Dorothy, who broke her leg on Christmas day, and died, a few days later.
I can't stop thinking about her, obviously I guess.
She was in her mid eighties. Which means she must have been born around 1925. Imagine that for a minute. What must the world have been like then, some small town NZ place. She was an opera singer, she toured Europe, but she was never famous. She was a solo mother, she had a child to an American Serviceman, to whom she was never married. She took her son to all her concerts, or so he used to say. He died a few years ago. She married a man 10 years younger than her. He's pretty remarkable too, the son of a coalminer, he went to art school in London, and before he retired was sculpting mannekins (you know, the ones that shops display clothes on). He was a window dresser for department stores. Dot was a member of the Acadamy of Fine Arts in Auckland, and frequently exhibited. Their house is an art gallery, full of works by themselves and their friends. Their garage was their studio, and their bar. She had white white hair, and always wore a shock of bright red lipstick. What a remarkable life for someone from that generation, especially for a woman from NZ.
She was mightily disabled by arthritus, but she loved my borther's 50th birthday vineyard tour last year. She called us all darling, and swore she had a 'sense' about things. She would talk to you, holding your hands all the time, and ask penetrating questions. She adored seeing my sons, there weren't many young people in her life any more, and she enjoyed all that youth and vitality they represented. I wish I was going to hear the eulogy someone is no doubt writing. I have asked my uncle to keep a copy for me. Suddenly I want to ask her many questions. I am sorry Auntie Dot, that the pile of red and purple floral fabrics that would have been your quilt, will have to be used for something else now.
So, good riddance 2009.
Come on 2010, what else you got in store?
And now for some light relief.....
I have been reading Maria Kalman at the New York Times re The Pursuit of Happiness.