When I Was Little All Grownups Were Old

When I was little, I thought my grandmother was really, really old…like Civil War old. She was probably at most late forties - early fifties. Who knows where the Civil War part came in. My brother Marlon and I asked my father what was it like in WW II…when we were around 9 or 10 and my father was in his late twenties - early thirties. He informed us that he would have been 5 or 6 years old during WWII. I DO know where Marlon and I got that idea though. My parents had woolen Army blankets in the house - olive drab, scratchy, scratchy wool. Back then the only wars we knew of were the ones we learned about in history. Even we knew Dad wasn’t old enough to be in the Civil War and those Army blankets had to come from somewhere, right? I guess they came from my grandfather who WAS in WWII.

Where am I going with this? Our friend Virginia passed away on Sunday in hospice after a rapid paced struggle with pancreatic cancer. She was 50. If I was still a little girl I might think that was very old. Now I know it isn’t. Virginia was a home health nurse and worked on the Cherokee Reservation. She was always “on call” and would deal with people in terrible situations at all hours of the day. She was brassy, irreverent, funny, funny, funny and so smart and caring. We met her about 14 years ago when she was on vacation from Louisiana and looking for a life change. She bought a small one person kayak from us at our camping and backpacking store, Venture Out. She met and loved Camper Beagle so we discovered her immense love and appreciation for dogs and this was our first introduction to her spontaneous intelligent sense of humor.

At some point years later we ran into her again in Waynesville. Turns out she had moved here from Louisiana and bought a house on our own street! Life gets in the way and although we didn’t see her often it was the kind of friendship that didn’t miss a beat. It always felt like we’d just seen her. We did just see her. We visited her in the Asheville hospice. Although she drifted in and out of full alertness, the wicked wit and humor and intelligence was still there. Two weeks later she is gone.

Y’all, she was 50. Younger than I am. We went to her birthday party in the summer. Sometimes I wish when dealing with things like this that I was still little and could believe she was really, really old and it was her time to go. But I’m not a little girl and she wasn’t really, really old. She was 50 and that is so not old. She still had so much to offer to the world.

Treasure those you care about. Don’t live your life like it’s fragile but keep in the back of your mind that sometimes it can appear fleeting.

Virginia, we don't like thinking that you aren't just a phone call away...we miss you.