“Take anything you want,” my sister-in-law told me. Last year, my in-laws moved into assisted care living. We walked through John’s childhood home taking a few things, but it seemed strange. Although the house was being readied for sale, they still lived around the corner.
I took Pauline’s iron. Heavy and sturdy, it’s one of those they-just-don’t-make-them-like-that-anymore irons.
Always practical and thrifty, she probably used that iron her entire married life, over sixty years. I rarely iron but was happy to take it since we don’t have one in our Fayetteville cottage. This substantial iron makes the whole chore seem more important.
This morning I ironed. My shirt was too wrinkled to ignore. As I ironed, I considered the many times she must have used it through the years, maybe even ironing John’s clothes when he was a kid. Somehow using her iron made me feel a bit better. I felt calmer, a bit closer to her.
This afternoon we buried my mother-in-law. It was a perfect fall day, a chill in the air, the sky cornflower blue, the trees between Fayetteville and Fort Smith brilliant. Fall was her favorite season.
As I sat in the tiny stone chapel, I gazed into the rafters and wondered if she could see all the people who filled the sanctuary, friends and loved ones saddened by her death.
I wondered if she saw John’s sister do the reading, her voice amazingly steady and unwavering.
I wondered if she saw her husband in his wheelchair, handsome and brave yet broken and lost without her.
I wondered if she heard Ave Maria fill the air, giving everyone goosebumps.
I wonder if she knows how many lives she touched in 92 years.
I wonder if she knows the void she leaves behind.
Pauline Boerner 09/03/1920 – 10/13/2012 |
talya
Do not let your heart be troubled… John 14:1