If there are any heavens my mother will have one. It will not be a heaven of pansies nor a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but it will be a heaven of black-red roses my father will be (deep like a rose tall like a rose) standing near by (swaying over her silent) with eyes which are really petals and see with the face of a poet really which is a flower and not a face with hands which whispers. This is my beloved, my wife (suddenly in sunlight he will bow, as the whole garden blooms) derived from ee cummings

Use it up Wear it out Make it due Or due without These few lines sum up my mother's outlook on life. Her spice cupboard was chocked full of 2 or 3 bottles of the same spice. When asked if the older duplicates could be disposed of, she would say it would get used someday. Her favorite piece of clothing, which she is wearing now, was a red knit jacket with a black lapel and thin black lines creating a grid. It has to

be at least 15 years old. It was almost impossible to get it off her to launder and was so fragile it has to be washed by hand. Everyone recognized her because of that jacket. One day, without realizing, I accidently dropped It in the hallway. Five minutes later there was a knock on the door and someone I had never seen before, said: "I believe you dropped this." Now she will never wear it out. Mom's shoe fetish revolved around the fact that she had one size 7 1/2 and one size 9 foot. She would, needing little encourage-

ment, tell anyone who would listen about her mismatched feet. Most of her life she refused to spend money on two pairs of the same shoe. She would make due with something in the middle. The result was painful corns and crooked toes; or tissue paper stuffed in the toe to try to keep one shoe on. Simple was always the best way of living. Clothes were hung on a line, even if you had a dryer. The dishwasher was used to store neatly folded plastic grocery bags. A microwave was totally unnecessary, as was the cell phone I made

her keep in her car. She did not know how to use either one. Her biggest "due without" challenge, not of her choosing, was the sudden death of her husband of 35 yrs. The man that built her a house they were married in. And the house she lived in for 72 yrs. Most of us were very concerned how a women who had spent most of her adult life being cared for would rise to the challenge of maintaining her home and income properties. She was bound and determined to show herself and the rest of us that we need not be

concerned. For most of the next 41 years she created a new life for herself, never whining about what life had handed her and becoming the independent and strong willed woman that carried her 96 yrs. She will be sorely missed but leaves a legacy to lead by example.

Death is only an old door Set in a garden wall; On gentle hinges it gives, at dusk When the thrushes call. Along the lintel are green leaves, Beyond the light lies still; Very willing and weary feet Go over the mossy sill. There is nothing to trouble any heart; Nothing to hurt at all. Death is only a quiet door In an old stone wall. Nancy Byrd Turner