The past week was full of sadness and richness. My last remaining aunt, Elizabeth Marie Nord Lange, passed away. The blessing was that she was 93, lucid and sharp as could be until the end, and died peacefully. The tragedy was that her own daughter, my cousin Donna Lange Parsons, died five days before from cancer at the age of 62. And Donna, by her own choice, had been estranged from all family except for my aunt for most of her adult life. She had, in the past couple of years, reached out to her siblings who she had alienated, but of course, the rift of 25 or so years is not easy to heal. So, on the day my cousins attended, and participated in the funeral of their sister, their mother passed away also. It was a very, very sad day, indeed.
After the funeral, my siblings and I gathered in Cleveland for hours of reminiscing and story telling. There was such a contentment and comfort that settled over us that the loss was replaced and our hearts felt lightened.