In church my father preached and my mother played the piano, so I took care of Lucille. She was my special little friend! She was always happy!
One of the things that my father did with Lucille was to sit her on his shoulders, hold her arms, and she would do a "flip-flop" to the floor. She loved his doing this! One day, as her feet hit the floor, she fainted. My father never did that again.
Frequently after that, she would say "I have that funny feeling again!" One night my father woke me up and told me that Lucille had died.
The funeral director from a nearby town brought a casket to our home, placed her body in it, and the casket was put in the living room until the funeral that afternoon.
Some of my friends came over and we went out into the yard, and were joking around. I realized that this behaviour was not proper. I went back into the living room, looked at my sister, and replaced the joking with tears.
At the funeral, the preacher said that Lucille was five years, ten months, and 28 days old when she died. That information has remained in my memory ever since. As I write this I am shedding a few tears--she was so very precious!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
How sad. And after all these years, you still shed tears. She must have been a precious sister to you..and you must have been just as precious to her.
What a sad story! It must have been something with her heart, do you think? Memories like that do not go away.
What a tragedy. Did they ever figure out what caused her death? Imagine though when you go Home, she'll be there to greet you. What a happy reunion that will be!
Post a Comment