I lost my sister Anita Trudeau on September 1. Anita had been battling cancer for over a year and at the beginning of August we thought she would have another treatment that we hoped would perhaps, buy her another year. But her liver cancer had progressed too far and she could not tolerate nor be helped by another radiation treatment.
At the end of August her daughter Alyssa, my sisters Joie and Zoralie and I, nieces and nephews and many of Anita's friends gathered to say goodbye and ease her through her final passage. Her last days were wonderous and at times filled with hilarity as well as sadness. Her beloved JD cooked scrambled eggs for her - the first eggs his chicken Rocky had laid. Her beloved Mike shared with her a last taste of a wonderful micro-brewery IPA. Joie, Zoralie and I cooked like crazy and filled her home with the aromas of meals she loved, and she nibbled here and there to savor our gifts to her. One gorgeous day she took a last walk through her garden and the next night we carried her out to watch the stars from her back porch. She even attended one last service with her fellow Unitarians. She knew she was going to be the subject of the sermon and she wanted to hear what her minister was going to say. Who could blame her?
Anita died in her home surrounded by family and friends she loved and who now miss her terribly. The next day Alyssa, my sister Joie and her daughter, Kimberly and I picnicked on Mt Tabor Park, overlooking Portland. We drank a bottle of Oregon pinot noir, shared wonderful memories and I took notes for the obituary I would write for the local newspaper. It was a sunny, crisp end-of-summer day which Anita would have loved. The only thing she would have loved more would have been a day at the beach.
At the end of August her daughter Alyssa, my sisters Joie and Zoralie and I, nieces and nephews and many of Anita's friends gathered to say goodbye and ease her through her final passage. Her last days were wonderous and at times filled with hilarity as well as sadness. Her beloved JD cooked scrambled eggs for her - the first eggs his chicken Rocky had laid. Her beloved Mike shared with her a last taste of a wonderful micro-brewery IPA. Joie, Zoralie and I cooked like crazy and filled her home with the aromas of meals she loved, and she nibbled here and there to savor our gifts to her. One gorgeous day she took a last walk through her garden and the next night we carried her out to watch the stars from her back porch. She even attended one last service with her fellow Unitarians. She knew she was going to be the subject of the sermon and she wanted to hear what her minister was going to say. Who could blame her?
Anita died in her home surrounded by family and friends she loved and who now miss her terribly. The next day Alyssa, my sister Joie and her daughter, Kimberly and I picnicked on Mt Tabor Park, overlooking Portland. We drank a bottle of Oregon pinot noir, shared wonderful memories and I took notes for the obituary I would write for the local newspaper. It was a sunny, crisp end-of-summer day which Anita would have loved. The only thing she would have loved more would have been a day at the beach.
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