Today, I went to a funeral.
Wilma, a friend of the family who I spent some time with washing clothes, feeding cats outside before I warmed up her meal, moping floors, and just being there with her passed away earlier this week. When my parents got married, her son said that his two best friends were getting married at the same time to each other. She was a caring person. In her earlier days, she kept cat food in her car so if she saw a hungry stray cat while she was out and about, she would feed them. She would give away things. I remember her bringing me a spider man decoder toy when I was a kid. She fed my mother when she was a struggling adolescent living off of potato chips. My mother in turn was glad to be around to help nurture her in her last days while avoiding her having to be placed in a nursing home. Wilma's brother talked about how Wilma always had a child like heart. She was traveling somewhere with her brother and she said to stop. She said "There is a windmill over there, let's climb it." She got to the top and waved down and said "Come on you can do it." She was adventurous and encouraging. Her brother Allen said that she was always there encouraging him. After the funeral, we went out to eat. Fourteen people gathered and had a nice meal after the service. It was a celebration of our dear friend's life.
Wilma will be missed. More than some may realize.
She lived to be 92, but was only about a month away from her birthday.
Her funeral was a exactly a month before her 93rd birthday.
May your body rest in peace Wilma, while your soul lives on.
I love you and I miss you.
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