To every flower, a season
Shirley's sister Karen called us just before dawn Wednesday to say that Shirley had awakened about an hour before, told Ray she felt ill, was sick for a little while, went back to bed with Ray and then died. Apparently she had a massive heart attack, and despite CPR from Ray and the paramedics, there was no getting her heartbeat back by the time they got her to the hospital. She was 63.
There's no way to tell those of you who don't know us well what Shirley meant to us. Those of you who do know us, also know that Shirley kept Holly Hill blooming, running and gleaming, the hardest-working, most direct, most intensely practical person we've known. The original WYSIWYG.
She made the draperies and beddings for Key West. She brought comfort food for my Dad's funeral and laughed with my aunts and flirted with the men. She doted on my Mom, who doted back, and kept both Mom's checkbook and garden in balance. She laughed with us, cursed with us, celebrated and grieved with us and invaded a large and special corner of our hearts.
When I was going over the obit information with Ray and Karen, I thought of two words she might have been proudest of: "Navy wife." While her beloved Ray was serving his country on Navy submarines around the world, Shirley was rotated through military housing around the country, raising three terrific kids -- she was proudest that they had all grown into productive, independent adults -- and working an array of jobs to make ends meet, all the while cooking, sewing, canning, crafting and making flowers do their thing.
Of course, she could also wield a hammer, paintbrush or tractor as well as most men I know, if not better.
I think it actually pained her to throw something away if you could clean it up, pretty it up and make it something useful and beautiful. Which is what she made her life, and ours: Useful and beautiful.
She said that one of her great honors was being able to wash her Dad's body for burial. One of mine was being able to write her obit for Ray, and in keeping with her style I gave it only one frill:
"She often said, 'You have to blossom where you are,' and Shirley flowered in abundance."
4 comments:
We will all miss Shirley. She was truly a special person.
so beautiful. so many things.... funny you should write about shirley's greatest honor....the bathing. i had just been meditating on that very thing, that wholly noble, humble act. i would agree that writing someone's whole life story is about as high an honor as there is. especially when in the hands of you. blessed shirley, she lived, she died, with grace.....so sorry for the deep hole it leaves forever in your life....B
reading this today just took our breath away.
shirley made our time at HHF so wonderful, easy and fun.
we remember coming downstairs one morning and finding her there, giving the silver a bit of a shine and spending hours hooting over her stories and several cups of coffee
she will be missed by everyone blessed to hear that big laugh and see that wonderful warm smile
charlie and jim
I only knew Shirley for a total of three or four weeks and I loved her. She always remembered how I liked my bed, and she made sure I had something for breakfast this summer when Ro was "in charge" of groceries. She always greeted me like an old friend, and I actually felt that she was--someone who could be trusted and someone who would help me out no matter what. You will never be able to replace her--in so many ways. Shirley was part of your household and I could see that she loved you and Robert too. I'm really sorry to hear that she is gone. She and Ray were more than husband and wife; I could see it when he brought in his lunch to eat with her. They were a working partnership. Many marriages do not work so well as theirs.
My condolences to you and to Ray.
Paul
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