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| M y aunt Canice Reilly holding me on the back steps, 3rd Avenue, San Francisco, 1953. Lori, the boxer, coming in for a snuggle. Look at how light my hair is—the same color as the dog. A redhead too. Then my hair turned dark. Woof. Look at the cuffed jeans. So very 1950s! She was a teenager here. Clearly, my main babysitter. Yeah, she babysat me when I was young. and I, in turn, took care of her kids when I was young—Full circle. So, her daugher is one of my best friends too. But Canice also drove me crazy too. RIP Canice Reilly (Dinsmore/Santos) 3/30/1937 - 5/12/2012. |
I was changing my Facebook cover photo to the Funeral Mountains, Death Valley—when my cousin Dave posted the link. You couldn’t get more literal than that. I was up all night. Couldn't sleep. That dream of the bowl of scorpions haunted me. Portent of things to come. Now I understand all the disturbing dreams. But we do have this weird death ESP in our family. Her death sentence was not commuted. She measured her demise in days, not months. she gave up the ghost. (Alas, she got only two weeks notice. She died on a Saturday. It was mercifully quick.) My aunt is gone. Blessed be.
Added 5/20
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