Dotty.

This is my great-aunt Dot. She is currently on life-support, after complications from intestinal surgery. The doctor awaits the arrival of my grandfather to decide when to pull the plug. 


But here's what I want to say about her: She's a dame, in every sense of the word. During the war, while she was a nurse, she met and married a photographer, and from then on they were rarely apart. She painted. Almost every family member of mine has at least one of her paintings on their walls. She made quilts, completely by hand. She raised boys into hilarious, compassionate men. She found any excuse she could to throw a party--in fact, she just recently had one at her assisted living home for over 30 people. She was feisty and hilarious in the face of many years of physical suffering. She was the person I could talk to about art and love and making things. She was my pen-pal. She and her husband traveled through Europe. They wrote each other love letters and silly notes, even later into their lives. She loved anything glittery and sparkling. She knew my pain without having to ask. She is special and rare, and I wish I could be with her to say goodbye.