She's Gone

I've known her for over twenty years, spent time with her on a regular basis for most of my adult life. Just three years younger than me, we formed an instant bond. A small gal, but she had a great capacity to bring much satisfation to my life. She was a precious gift to me; she met specific needs unlike any other.

We met when my first-born turned one, and she was with me to welcome each of my other three children home from the hospital. Dirty diapers, spit-up, sleepless nights, you name it, she was there through it all. Her gentle humming could sooth each of my babies to sweet sleep. And I loved her for that. We were a team. We were inseprable.

As the children grew and their needs became more complex, more challenging, she rarely complained, but boy, did she listen to my complaints. Those teen years stretched me to my limits, and I needed a listening ear more than ever. I would go on and on about this and that, perhaps filling her up with more than she could bear. I'm sure at times I was a burden to her, but she kept working hard to keep up with the lastest Ruch dirt.

Then came the ultimate test--three more children. She wasn't getting any younger and neither was I. There were days neither one of us thought we had enough patience or strength to keep going. Then one day she cried out. I asked her if I could help her in any way. It was my turn to give back for all she had given to me. I placed a call and sought wise counsel for her and her problems seemed to disappear for a while and our relationship continued on for the better part of a year. Until yesterday...

It was as if May couldn't function any more. She wanted to give up. I begged her to hang in there. "Come on, May, you can do it! I know my burdens have been heavy for you, but surely you can carry just one more load." But it was useless, she had taken her final spin in this crazy world and as much as I tried to help, I couldn't release her from the suds that were causing her to drown. So I shed a little tear, pronounced her dead, and went to tell my husband.

"Honey, I did everything I could, but our precious May Tag is gone. There's no time to grieve because right now I have too many loads."

So tomorrow May takes a trip out to the curb and then on to her final resting place. And I welcome KEN home. He is a large man, with a huge capacity (necessary with 7 kids) and hopefully he will give me many MORE years of satisfaction.