"The Fox"

When I was a kid I had a charter subscription to a magazine, still being published now, called 'Cricket'. It's a literary magazine for children, and I loved it. All my old issues are now on a shelf in my daughter's room, including the issue, where ever it is, where I won a drawing contest. At some point the magazine put out an LP with a variety of children's songs on it, including the classic recording of 'The Fox' done by Burl Ives. As far as I'm concerned, anyone else doing this song is just a pale imitation of him. I did enjoy singing it, though, with enthusiasm.

On Saturday my grandmother passed away. It was not unexpected, and I did not have a deeply intimate relationship with her at any point in my life, but I still feel a bit shaken, as if the ground has rocked ever so slightly and I need to regain my balance in my world.

She was one of twelve children, and the last surviving sibling. She had no real hobbies, or interests outside her family. Her largest legacy is us: three daughters, eleven grandchildren, six great-grandchildren.

When my great aunt (my grandmother's sister) died eight years ago, my grieving project was crocheting afghans, and this has turned out to be something I'm aware of as part of my own legacy to future generations. Now, given my grandmother's inclinations and daily activities during her lifetime, my grieving project must involve cleaning, throwing things out, and worrying about everything. Somehow, a bit less attractive than the afghan project, though my husband looks forward to a cleaner home, at least in the short term.

It's a bit strange to be looking forward to her funeral. I will sing, as I do at family funerals, our 'traditional' songs: 'Ave Maria', 'Be Not Afraid', and 'On Eagle's Wings'. I look forward to seeing cousins that I haven't seen in years, introducing my daughter to her larger very extended family, and hearing stories about my grandmother and our family, always precious to me. I feel very lucky to have this bittersweet time with people I love very much.