Earlier this week, a lovely lady passed away.  Her final months were not kind to her.  She seemed to age exponentially overnight.  Perhaps she suffered a stroke.  Arthritis had settled into her legs and hips.  She moved slowly with pain.  Dementia had set in, and she no longer had a desire to eat.  We weren’t sure that she recognized her home at the end.  We simply wanted to make her comfortable for her journey home.  There were no more treatments available, and we made the painful decision to let her go.

Not much is known about her earlier years.  She came into our lives after spending an unknown amount of time on the streets of Cleveland.  She wasn’t alone; she had a male companion.  She was taken in by a homeless shelter and received medical treatment.  She was undernourished and ill, but by the time we met her she was well on her way to recovery.  One of the shelter volunteers introduced her to us, and we bonded immediately.  There was no doubt in our minds that she would be coming home with us that day.

Of great concern to us was how our other child would adjust to a “new” sister.  He was wary of her-he was accustomed to being an only child for awhile now.  They tolerated each other and respected each other’s territory.  He was king of the outdoors-she was the lady of the house.  She loved spending time with family and loved company-he was more shy and reserved.

Several happy years went by. We were contemplating a move.  Our boy was aging.  We worried about how our children would adjust to a new environment.  Sadly, our boy passed in his sleep.  Only our little girl would be making this trip with us.

The move was very traumatic for her.  She was lost, confused.  What happened to her house?  Nothing was the same for her, and she was sad.

Once we moved into our permanent house, Life started to improve.  She discovered that she had so much more space to explore and claim as her own.  She also found that she LOVED the heat (and there is plenty of that here in South Carolina.)  She realized that she was born to be a Southern belle.  Her daddy worked from home and she found she enjoyed her role as his office assistant.  Her later years were quiet and spent with family who loved her unconditionally.

Our house is too quiet now.  We’ve never lived here without her.

Darling Dora, you’ve changed our lives for the better. We didn’t want to let you go, but sadly it was time. Rest easy now on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.