REMEMBERING LORYN

REMEMBERING LORYN

            We moved to Arlington Heights in 1975 

 to accommodate Dave’s Mom Loryn.  

She had just sold her Elgin home, 

and helped us finance the house on Hickory, 

just blocks away from where Dave was working. 

           We didn’t know how sick his Mom was….

but I think that she did.  

We moved in early July 1975, 

and she died August 21, 1975…

not even two months together there.

 She emptied out her bank safety deposit box

 the day before she passed, 

even though Dave also had access to it. 

 On her last day....

I thought that she was just very tired, 

since she kept falling asleep at the kitchen table, 

as she was cutting up cucumbers to make pickles.   

  I always said that she “died with her boots on”--

 wearing her apron, doing a domestic chore.  

When I helped her to bed that night, 

I knew something was wrong.  

I slept on the couch 

outside her room that night. 

I awoke suddenly early morning,

 but was afraid to go into her room. 

Dave eventually came and looked in…..

she had died during the night.  

For all I know, I may have heard

 her raspy breathing stop 

when I woke up.

She was lapsing into a final coma

 when she was cutting up the cucumbers….

the end stage coma

 of cirrhosis of the liver.  

The one and only time I ever saw Dave cry, 

and cry with abandon at that, 

was at her funeral tribute.  

True to her feisty nature, 

Loryn had written her own eulogy, 

along with instructions

 to me and Jean (her two daughter-in-laws)

 about what she should wear, 

and her makeup-- 

she DEMANDED 

that we use her own makeup,

 instead of the funeral home's 

"garish” cosmetics!

Dave had been constructing a hallway

 from our kitchen and family room, 

to the stairs leading 

to the upper bedrooms..  

This hallway would provide Loryn 

with her own “suite”—

her downstairs bedroom and bathroom, 

and full use of the living room. 

He had to sadly tear it down,

 midway through.

  

I looked forward to her

 being with our two babes,

 Matt (three years old)

 and Niki (almost two years old),

 doting on them, 

and enjoying them with me.  

She had made a small doll’s bed

 out of a small box for Niki, 

with wisps of fabric for bedding.

She sometimes acted

 like a lady "to the manor born",

 but I was never put off 

by her lofty attitude.  

She was like no one I had ever met.

 She had such a loving heart and generosity

 midst all that smoke and drama.

  

 Everything she did seemed 

SO unique and fascinating. 

She lived in a ranch home....

in the far-off  kingdom of Elgin, 

across the Fox River. .. 

so far from my city of Chicago home, 

that it seemed the end of the universe!  

It only added to her interesting cache

 and allure to me.

My favorite photo of her

 was taken on New Years Eve,

 when we shared the festive evening 

with our dear friends Mary and George Barr. 

Loryn was there, “dressed to the nines”.  

George captured her image perfectly, 

as she grandly displaying her pride and joy,

 her mink stole, 

draped on the floor in front of her.

And then she was gone. 

 I looked at our new home

 with its outsized back yard 

which she was going to help me landscape,

 and the bare bones rooms 

she was going to help me decorate. 

(She had talents in both arenas.) 

 And I wondered how I could ever manage without her.

I dedicate this blog,

 this day, 

in your dear memory,

 my darling friend Loryn…

for your delightful saucy opinionated ways

 and your loving my husband, 

my children, 

and me

 so ferociously.