I’ve definitely got a life to recall. It seems aeonian, but it’s only been 76 years. And will soon end. Soon, in relative terms, perhaps twenty years at most.There’s still work to be done.
Sadly, we aren’t here very long, are we? So we’d best not waste time.
It was only yesterday when my brothers and I were playing wiffle ball in the backyard, trying not to knock our mother’s Monday washing off the cotton ropes strung diagonally from the garage to hooks in the maple tree growing up through the lower-level concrete-block patio our dad rebuilt every few years.
Now, Dody, Pat, and Peter are gone. So is Paul, Sr, who took this photo, and who reminded us every Monday morning to help our mother hang the clothes before the first pitch and to ‘be careful of the clothes line.’
That leaves me to finish the game.
Peter died two months ago, and I’m his only surviving relative and the executor of his estate.
He and his late wife, Pamela, have left their money and property to the Sisters of Charity (BVMs), the religious order of our late aunt and Dody’s sibling, Sister Marilyn Thomas.
My task is to make sure this gets done.
It’s the latest clothesline.
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