This week, we lost a very special someone in our lives.
Dorothy Ackermann Eastwood departed this world peacefully on January 21, 2015. She was 91 years old. She had just celebrated her 76th wedding anniversary, with our beloved Grandpa Burgess, who is now left behind.
Trent – who adored his grandmother (to put it mildly) – is very, very sad. We both are.
There isn’t much we can say, other than we’re looking forward to getting to San Antonio later this week to be with family. And that she was a truly special woman, with a rare talent.
She had a gift for life.
Not only did she have four children, nine grandchildren, seventeen great-grandchildren, and three great-great grandchildren, but everything she touched seemed to flourish, as evidenced by her virile green thumb. It was still working its magic into her nineties.
This week, as Dorothy began to transition to whatever comes next, we began to notice that all our houseplants – struggling through an unusually cold and dry January here in the Bay Area – began to thrive and bloom unexpectedly. Many of them were gifts from grandma herself. The rabbit’s foot fern we were about to compost suddenly shot up new foliage from all it’s rhizomes. The mystery hanging plant we purchased for the front porch was peppered in white buds. The day she died, an African Violet that Dorothy gave us when we moved into our house sent up a tiny, lone bloom, almost as if in a parting wave…
This morning, as we made our preparations to head to her funeral in Texas, I noticed that the orchid that Dorothy had long lovingly advised us on had suddenly shot up two new bloom stalks.
And I knew that she was gone, but she wasn’t really gone.
She’ll be all around us for a long, long time, and if Trent and I have anything to say about it, she will always look good.