Farewell, Florence

She had been failing for the past year, and sometimes asked to leave church early , so when I didn’t see her in the nursing home for a few weeks, I just assumed she was tired – I didn’t realize she had died. I know we’re not supposed to have favorites, but I do anyway, and I’ll really miss her.

She really epitomized my theory that as we age we simply become a more concentrated version of our own personality. She was a sweetheart. Even when she didn’t remember who someone was, she was friendly and appreciative.

I remember one morning when her niece came to see her. Florence was not having a good memory day, but her personality was intact. She smiled sweetly at her niece and confided: “I don’t remember who you are, but you are so nice to come and see me!”She loved proclaiming her age. It varied every week. Sometimes she was 84 and sometimes she was 94. Once in a while she was 96. She loved asking us to guess her age, and of course it was a surprise every time. Regardless of the number she chose, she would cock her head coyly to the side and gleefully proclaim: “Not bad for a little old lady!” I always delighted her by responding: “You’re not just any little old lady, you are a TERRIFIC little old lady! “ And each time she was thrilled, and eagerly asked: “Really? You think I’m terrific?” She beamed with a wide smile that cheerfully showed off her two remaining teeth.

Well the joke was on me. I would sometimes try to correct her and remind her that she was 94, but it turns out she was actually 100! Her goal was to be nice to everybody, and I can honestly say she was a great example. Goodbye Florence.