Wednesday, August 4, 2021
Georgia, since I read your note with the sad news about your mom, I have thought about very little else besides her — about her and you, your sister and brothers, your whole family...and Elise and all the stories she has told me about her youthful experiences with you. I have wished many times over the years that I had been a part of all those adventures and all those stories!
I always loved hearing your mother laugh. I loved seeing her close her eyes, throw her head back and laugh! She loved the humor all around us in everyday life.
I also loved the way she listened — she listened more intently than almost anyone else I have known.
I always knew that when I spoke to your mom, she really listened. She really heard what I was saying. She looked me in the eyes, read easily between the lines, thought about what I was saying. And when she spoke, another familiar look came into her eyes: wisdom. I always had the feeling that when she spoke — especially about something important we were talking about — she drew from many years of thoughtful experience and shared her opinion with genuine affection and respect.
Wow. As I describe that now, I see her eyes and feel this experience all over again. It was that meaningful to me.
I admire her now, especially, because I am reminded how rare these qualities are. She truly was an extraordinary woman, Georgia. And although I haven’t spoken with her and enjoyed all those delightful qualities in many years, I miss her very much.
Your mom's obituary was lovely. She was very pleased, I am sure. I am thinking of your painting, The Pier, in which another woman is beginning a journey and your mom will stay behind. Now her role is reversed, and I wish her a lot of luck, wherever this journey takes her.
