(A picture of the living family, circa 1977. The balance has now shifted to the other shore. Bill, Betty and now daughter Ann are getting it prepared for our reunion, when it comes. Angie the White Dog will ensure there is exuberance in the life everlasting).

I rose this morning at the usual bridge from rich dark to bright Piedmont dawn. The pastures at Refuge Farm were cloaked in gray, the slowly rising light attempting to break the shroud. Minding quiet hours, I got out to the Great Room with a minimum of disturbance and snagged the smart phone to see if there was news.

There was. A missed call and a voice note were recorded. The time stamp was a few minutes after midnight local, reflecting early evening across a continent and the gray waves to Anchorage, Alaska.

The note was short. “She’s gone.”

I fumbled to retrieve the voice message. My brother had taken a break for dinner, and he relayed the news. Ann left us on the brink of a new day here in the east. Her passing was peaceful and with the expectation that she will be greeted on the other side of the big river by those who gave her life and loved her without question. They will welcome her irrepressible humor, her wit and her grace. It will brighten the other side, though in departure she leaves us the poorer.

Her life was filled with adventure, bridging the old and new Gold Rushes in a raw wild wilderness she helped enrich with the delightful sound of joyful singing and circles of talented people in syncopated motion.

Farewell, Ann. Those you leave behind will remember. Always. We will not say “goodbye.” Instead, we will see you again at the gates of eternity.

Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com