Her many interests were easy to see, especially her love of cooking. The kitchen was neatly organized and well stocked with everything that a cook would fantasize about having within reach. Her cookbooks were stained and dogeared with frequent use over many decades. Nothing in there was for show and no sign of things bought on impulse and used once and then consigned to a little used cupboard. No, it was used and useful.
Her other hobbies were everywhere. OSU was heavily featured all over the house. She and her husband had season tickets to the football games, and looked forward to going to all of the home games. An empty candy box in her bedroom contained ticket stubs from a game last December.
She loved to sew and I saw a lovely vest stitched with flowers and patterns in the same color (cream). The detail was just astonishing and the craftsmanship showed many long hours by a skilled seamstress.
Her clothing was breathtaking. Fine fabrics, lovely colors and styles, it was like being in a high end department store. Every article reflected her taste and style. It was easy to see that she was extremely stylish and took great pride in her appearance. Leaning into her closet I could smell her perfume and could almost see her there.
By the time I knew her she'd had Alzheimer's for many years. Her caretakers made sure she was still dressed as nicely as when she'd known herself. She was beautifully groomed. Her hair, nails and makeup always perfect.
Looking over her home, I missed her a lot. I thought of her life and the sense of her style. I also wondered what will be thought of my life when family goes through my things when I die. Will my style be as lovely and admirable? Will the things gone through reflect who I am? Will it show a happy life well lived?
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