She is very weak after her treatment. Skipp had to lift her in to the car as her legs just couldn't hold her. It hurts my heart to see her so weakened. sigh........... She chatters all the way home about her treatment - not unlike someone with PTSD from a trauma of some sort. This too is hard to hear, feel, know. She is so very brave. so gentle, so fragile and loving. And she maintains a lovely grace and confidence that fills me with joy. It is all so bittersweet.
When we arrived at her home my sister joined us for a nice visit -lots of laughs and some trips down memory lane. We recalled quite vividly when my sister and I took dance lessons and how all of our relatives came to our recitals. I started when I was three! We remembered one recital in particular and how the finale was just wonderful. Miss Connie, our instructor was a woman of large stature, long red wavy hair and profound talent and Broadway beauty and style.
We all began to sing the song from that finale - , "The Best Things In Life Are Free" -