Dorothy Died last month!                                                                          February 2, 2015

   Dorothy was my friend; I lost her the other day.  Her iron will, her love for her boys, her

enthusiasm when we talked, her willingness to argue a point have sapped her energy; she was

ready to go.  Surrounded by family Dorothy took her last breath and left us to mourn and to

miss her.

   Our friendship was not long standing, but it was strong.  For both of us it bore witness to the fact that even the elderly, the aged can make new friends and enjoy the warmth a new friendship offers.  Dorothy’s mind was quick, and she was a mischief.  She sought conversations that were not mundane.  She was not interested in the ordinary list of aches and pains, the discussions of good/bad doctors, nor remedies for an aching back or cures for constipation.  She did not even want to discuss how she felt.  Once in awhile she would tell me that yesterday was better than today, “you know what I mean.”  Then she went on to talk about a party at the Chateau that she had not attended.

   On the whole she participated at the Chateau when she felt like it.  In fact it was at a writers’ group there that she and I connected.  Dorothy was a retired psychiatrist and I a retired social worker.  We spoke the same language and had the same spectator sport: we liked to people watch and figure out who people really were.  We shared a desire to understand life’s roller coaster.

   I found that Dorothy was accepting, I could not shock her.  I believe if something I shared did indeed shock her she would simply say, “Oh really” and change the subject.  Though she denigrated her memory and very often could not find the other shoe, she remembered the important things.  She knew who she was and what was important to her.  Sure she was critical, by the time we sail by 80 and 90, who has a better right to be critical?  Dorothy would never deliberately hurt someone’s feelings.  She could be sharp and disdainful, but only to make a point.  I found that Dorothy was a good listener; that of course was her job.  It was a finely honed trait.

   As her friend I knew I could depend on the truth when I sought it;  a listening ear when I needed it; and a caring response when I was at my wits’ end.  Fortunately we never felt “down” at the same time.  Dorothy adored her boys and her grandchildren.  She was smart enough not to have many expectations; therefore she was seldom disappointed.  I will miss my friend who gave so much without even knowing it.  Incidentally, we never discussed religion or politics; good friends know when to skirt sensitive issues.