She laughed and laughed when I told her I’d set a timer for heading out and the gadget had heard wrong and apparently thought I was going to a farmer’s market: it displayed a tall basket of vegetables with the kale on top in the place of honor. Go see kale! Huzzah! Music and tossing veggies at the bell!
Because Gail is moving away and found herself with a party thrown in her honor. Several men lifted her wheelchair up the two steps to the door. She doesn’t weigh much anymore.
I finally got to meet her daughter who’d knitted her that gorgeous top-down sweater with the lace-leaf yoke–and Gail was wearing it tonight. Ruth’s sweater was gorgeous, too, and when she found out I was a knitter too we were instant friends.
The resident dog, a spaniel, walked through the crowd with a gentle wag of its tail but not eager to pick out one stranger from many for it to pay attention to.
Richard brought her a plate of strawberries per her request.
Gail lost her husband decades ago (to a terrible medical mistake that should never have happened) and I found myself saying to Ruth, I remember your dad.
That’s all I needed to say. She was so grateful.
Her mom, about the age of my own, will now be in walking distance so she can keep a good eye on her care rather than from a two hour flight away.
It was so good to see them and to get a chance to say goodbye. I snapped a picture.
And looked at it. And showed it to Gail. And then offered a do-over and she laughed and laughed again because that’s Gail and said thank you and meant it and yes please let’s and leaned back towards Aly and we got her a better send-off that time.
My phone number’s going to be the same, she made sure I knew.
My email’s on the card I wrote, I told her.
A hug and then another for safekeeping and Richard and I stepped away into the night, knowing just how badly we were going to miss her.