After Five Years

I think more of the  luminous ways that Elizabeth was alive.  How alive she was when she was trying on clothes, and looking for something new to wear.  How alive she was when talking on the phone, and laughing with friends.  How alive she was when reading, or writing, or doing her homework.  All of these things pointed to a normal long life.  How ordinary in some ways she was, growing up with two parents, lots of relatives, lots of friends, a passion for photography and the world of images. She was a discerning reader, and was developing an inordinate fondness for Faulkner.

But she was an ordinary kid, wanting to eat the cookie dough off the spoon when the baking was done.  She loved ice cream, and her dad allowed her a lot of it insisting it would provide her her calcium requirements.   

She loved people.  She went out of her way as a young girl to be friendly.    In early childhood, when she was a student in preschool, she learned how to answer the phone at reception.  (Was this the beginning of her lifelong love of the telephone?)

Dear Elizabeth

Just a note to say that we are having unseasonably warm weather, the cats are restless, I am off work as it is Columbus Day, and thinking, that is what I do when I have time to do it, thinking of what a fine human being you were. You wanted to give money to that homeless man and his dog when you were nine and we passed them on the way to school every day.  You were making things for your friends as soon as you learned how to make things, like pillows.  Your to do lists were full of items that you wanted to give to your friends, or to your boyfriend.

But besides your generosity, and open heart, you were funny, and you loved to laugh, and we had some good times watching movies together.  I wonder what you would have thought of Ryan Gosling's banner year.  I wonder if you would have defended Clooney's dud movie.  It is a little game I play when I think of you.  What you would have made of this and that that has happened since you died.

The tears have not dried.

My bookshelf, pictures of cousins, LP, Alexis, you and I at Thanksgiving dinner at the "kids" table and the two of us in Manlius. I miss you every day.

Duskywing moth on Jerusalem Artichoke

Found the flowers along the railroad tracks on the path up to the mile marker that Elizabeth would swim from.  Found the moth on the flower after cutting a bouquet for our back yard.  It was on the day we buried Scooter's ashes next to Whiskers' grave near the bushes where the catbirds always whined-- just north of the pond on Ackerman Rd.

Many happy swims in the tube on the pond.

Elizabeth Aakre Fund at Narrowsburg Public Library

More donations have been made to the Elizabeth Aakre book fund at the Narrowsburg Public Library.  Thank you to those who have given.  If you are interested in doing so, here is where to send the money:

Tusten-Cochecton Library
198 Bridge St.
Narrowsburg NY 12764


In the meantime, the librarian would like to know what books the library should buy with the money. Do you have any suggestion?  Please write and comment if you do.

And thanks again for the support.

Elizabeth's birthday

One year she wanted to have a party at the pier, before she was seven I would guess, or maybe when she was eight, with several friends and dozens of water balloons.  We filled them in the sink in the kitchen, bombs loaded with water, bombs with their brightly colored skins whose lips were thicker and might snap while wrapped around the tap.

This was in the days when the pier was sort of shabby and had a miniature golf course and a hot dog stand, and just a little play area perfect for exploding water balloons.

The girls and boys came wearing bathing suits.  How relieved we were at the bright sun that June day.  Elizabeth was delighted to throw a balloon at me, but surprised when it didn't burst.  You really had to heave the things, and when all the children were assembled, heave them they did. 

If you haven't seen it, please read the comment under the post for Scooter above.  It is very lovely, and I am grateful to whomever posted it.  It is her first birthday comment today.  What a great day it was the day she was born!

Water Bombs filled with water, from German Wikipedia

Scooter (1998-2011)

Scooter died today.  He was 13 years old, and spent his first eight years as Elizabeth's pet.  Born in Sullivan County and rescued shortly afterward, he was the runt of the litter who managed to march to his own drummer.  The day we drove up to the animal rescue, there were a baby deer, many puppies and other kittens contending for adoption. (Well not the fawn, but she was distracting with loveliness.)  We had been told there was a kitten there whose name should be trouble.  He strayed from the group.  He was a biter.  He got lost, and tumbled down hills.

Scooter with Elizabeth in 1998

Still, we took him home where he soon adjusted to life with the loving Elizabeth.  She let him sleep in her bed.  He was a great companion to all.  His favorite position was flat out on your chest when you were in a reclining position.  He liked to be scratched behind his ears.  Like many other cats of my acquaintance, he did not really approve of reading, and did his best to prevent you from doing it by tearing the newspaper to shreds for instance, or sitting on your book while you had it in your lap and thought you had made it clear it would be better to stop back later after this chapter.

As a hunter, he would bring us shrews and mice he had caught.  He had no use for bats, even though they tempted him and made him take ungainly leaps upward which proved only how difficult it was to capture a bat without a butterfly net.

When Elizabeth died, he seemed to look for her and would sometimes howl with grief. Her last note hanging on our door was "Be nice to Scooter! Play with him!"   We did our best to follow her advice.  His greatest pleasures were lying in bed alongside Richard, and eating fresh chicken Richard had fried. We will miss him most dreadfully.

This picture was taken in 2004 or so when we were in rural Pennsylvania.  Elizabeth complained when I cut my hair.  She said now that you are 50, you don't have to do that thing that 50 year old women do.  You don't have to cut your hair. 

During the summer we had time to spend with each other without looking at the clock.  We would drive and get ice cream and go to the movies in Callicoon, and take long swims.  By now I would be thinking of what to get her for her birthday. 

Listening to Lizzy's laugh

In the process of spring cleaning, I came upon some audiotapes recorded when Elizabeth was four years old.  There is a lot of laughter and fooling around, and some singing.  Besides her dad, I can't think of anyone who liked to laugh more.  She could be very serious, and loved serious books, and did not shy from sad movies, but she had a light hearted side that was lovely to hear on these old tapes.  At one point she was singing Ring around the rosy with her friends Khalila and Jazmyn. 

Photography and Elizabeth

Starting a project in my studio lighting class about you. Projects in digital seems funny, when the subject is you. I hope you aren't too angry that they're digital. We aren't taught how to use film with soft boxes. I love you.

Cousin Nicholas