Anne

I think my photo of the sago palm yesterday led at least one reader to think that it was in front of the steps up to my porch but as you can see here, it is not. The steps are just gracefully made of semi-circles. 
Or at least I think they are graceful.

Okay. The woman whose death I was informed of yesterday. 

Her name was Anne-Helene Dreyer. She was from Norway. I met her in 1987 in Cozumel. I wrote that story HERE. 
I have written about her many times so if you want more, just go to the search box at the top left on the page and type in "Anne-Helene." 

I still cannot believe she's gone. She was absolutely one of the most vital, strong, beautiful, and joyful women I've ever known. And although she was so far away, in Norway, another country, another world, and I never visited her or got to meet her daughters, I am certain that she lived the rest of her life as bravely and as lovingly and as beautifully as anyone on earth ever did. And there has never been a moment since the last time we saw each other that she has not been in my heart. Her life and mine were braided together too strongly for her not to be. 

As May said, when she read the text I sent to the family about her being gone, "I don't have words. We were so blessed. She came into our life, arms and heart wide open, and made our lives infinitely richer. What a deep loss. I love you all so much."

As usual, May is the one who can express so beautifully what all of us feel. What we all know is the truth. 

And now, finally, I am weeping. I have so many images of Anne in my head. An inordinate number of them, really. But that's because her presence in my life was so unique to who she was and what she meant to me and our family, that I unconsciously collected those images of our time together knowing somehow, I suppose, that this was a woman whose time spent with us was something so precious and rare that I would never experience anything like it again. 

And I haven't. Although it's been many, many years since I've seen her, I feel as if she might still be right here, ready to make her Norwegian fish dish, to play reggae loudly on the boom box on the back porch, to kiss me on the lips every night when we went to bed, saying, "Good night, Mary."

Good night, Anne-Helene. Thank you so much for everything. I hope you knew how much you were loved by me and my family here in North Florida, and how you unknowingly but surely taught us so much. I honestly don't know that I could have made it without you. And if there is an afterlife, I hope for you that it is Jamaica, which was your favorite place on earth, and that you are dancing, dancing, dancing, to the music and the waves and the the rustling of the palm trees on the clean white sand and the clear blue waters of the Caribbean stretch out before you endlessly, whispering you home. 

All My Loving...Mary