there are many fine writers on this forum.
Peanut butter and potato chips or kinds of spam in the mail and philosoossifies like even, this piece, may just inspire other folks to write more pieces from the heart.
thanks and no offense sent to any reader. Only wishes that every loss -could- somehow be recovered and saved forever. Here in the eulogy form of essay is my only, imperfect, human reach towards that end.
Marian Booher- a late eulogy
Memory ties and memory chains. My paternalgrandmother that i headstoned in essay form here last week...
...appended nearby as properly fits, is this eulogy for our next neighbor, Marian Booher formerly of 1028 Almeria Avenue, Coral Gables.
Our street is umbrella-ed by Banyan trees of eternal live and eternal beauty too vivid, too strong to translate into print.
Walter and Marian Booher. Quaker retirees from Ohio.
Marian and Walter retired from parenting and working lives to the 1028 Almeria home in 1955.
Hence i knew them slightly as a young boy during those years when i spent weekends at 1034 with my grandmother- that one who rolled lemons and baked
In later years after my grandmother was gone we resided in her former home, the home of my dad's own boyhood.
Walter and Marian, Marian and Walter were always next door for me.
Walter made things. He an industrial arts teacher from the Ohio public school system. Walter invented and produced wonderful, Quaker, wind-powered gee-gaws of wood and bright colors. His shop in the small car-garage at the rear had table saw, band saw, mysterious old jack planes and chisels, and other tools of the ligneous arts. He taught me how to apply linseed oil varnish: lay it on thick and side to side. Tip off with light vertical strokes. Let the brush marks alone. They will flow out.
Walter and Marian lived close to the earth even in tree lined Coral Gables.
Walter made miniature stone-grinding wheat mills hand powered. He made them and gave them to friends.
Marion baked rich, heavy bread of stone ground whole wheat. She gave us bread weekly.
When i reached my eighteenth birthday i joined the USNR and left home forever.
Marian never spoke about herself. All the while i lived my detached life aboard USS Orion Marion sent me letters of companionship and cheer.
Marian and Walter. Walter and Marian..
Eating pure food and living pure thoughts they lived long and lived well.
Walter and Marian. Marian and Walter.
The wind faded slowly. The painted churners and sawyers retired from their
Marian grew ill.
No more brown bread could be baked. No more cranking the handle of any wheat mill, no more for health's sake.
I returned to 1028 Almeria to visit. A hospice now.
Marian confined to bed.
Marian never spoke about -herself- until this.
"Oh, reid, I am done for"
Walter now blind stood by and wept.
A week later Walter alone.
No more Marian and Walter. No more Walter and Marian.
I reply seventeen years late.
Marian, you are not done for.
You are not done under.
You are not finished
because i shall never be finished
with your being here
by my side.