Friday in Anchorage, Alaska

Well, it’s about 10:00 at night here in the far north, and it’s been pitch black out since about 4:30 pm.  My internal clock thinks it’s about 1:00 am, and so does my computer, because both are unaware that I’ve moved to the west a couple thousand miles.

It’s been a long couple of days.  I did cook Thanksgiving dinner today, although with ham instead of turkey.  It was good, and I’m about to have a piece of my husband’s pumpkin cheesecake.  I expect to pass out completely after that.  In the next couple of days there’s going to be some exploring around Anchorage and some venturing off into mountains and near glaciers.  Should be really interesting.

Sadly, Jeff’s grandmother, Dolly, passed away yesterday evening at 7:30. I miss her already, and I’m so sad for Jeff and his mother.  I love you guys.  I’ll remember Dolly like she is in this picture (not sticking out her tongue!), laughing - I knew her to have an inimitable sense of humor and an indomitable spirit, and I admired her.  I was privileged to know her the last seven years.

Dolly was a unique woman: in her life she was everything from trucker to mother, from Hell’s Angel to caretaker, and most things in between.  Dolly was an immensely strong woman.  Her life taught her to be tough, and she learned to do what she wanted to do and to say what was on her mind, and damn anybody who wanted to stop her. There was a lot to admire in her way of staring down whatever came at her and then giving it hell. A lot of what she said was was funny and smart-assed, and she was perfectly fine saying what she thought even if you didn’t want to hear it.

She had a lot of children and grandchildren, and even a few great-grandchildren as well as two husbands who were gone well before I met her.  She had many priceless stories, and as I love stories, I heard a lot of them.  She was a born and bred south Texan, complete with accent - she knew the fields and oil rigs and the sun and small town life.  She knew the hardships and joys of a life that’s half job, half family, half farm.  Dolly always had her own preferred way of doing things, much of which she’d “prefer” you to do as well: I once received detailed instructions on making iced tea, which I’ve done a million times, but Lord don’t you know I made it her way that day (well, I had to argue, but that’s me)!

I can only begin to hint at what sort of an enormous personality Dolly was, but maybe you also have known and loved someone like her.  Her life experience and personality were larger than life.