When I sit down on Sundays to read the paper I usually take a look at the obituaries. I have not lived in this are a long enough to know too many people so the chances of me reading about someone I know are slim.
I like the obits with photos. I like the obits that have two photos, a young and old version of the deceased.
Today there was an obit for a woman named Dora. She was a rancher. She was an Aunt, like me. There was no mention of children (like me). Here's a bit of her life that was shared in the obit:
She spent most of her life on the Ranch. At the ranch, she supervised nieces and nephews; milked cows; jerked beef; rode; fed chickens; killed snakes; opened and closed gates; dug out the spring; scraped out the water tanks; watered the trees; picked fruit; peeled figs; chopped seasoned juniper & mesquite; filled the wood box; started the fire in the stove; ground corn; made enchiladas, tortillas, cakes and pie crusts; dressed in layers; took pictures; read; kept a diary; wrote letters; watched the night sky and bats; the butchering,
barbecuing, and branding; and repaired the dirt road as required by her car. When visiting, Dora arrived
serendipitously & left when she tired of company. She played marbles to win. Tia Dora could grab and twist an ear, pulling it & the disobedient child along behind her. She was a favorite aunt.
I've often wondered what my obituary would sound like. I don't think it would be nearly as interesting as Dora's. Her obit makes me think I need to get a move on and do something more interesting than just working in an office everyday and then coming home and going to bed.
Today I raise a glass to Dora, a woman I never met and just read about. You sound like my kind of woman. Rest in peace girl.
Happy Thanksgiving.
