A sweet lady from our church family died last month — a true prayer warrior who lived her faith every moment of her life. Her daughter lives out-of-state, so now that her executor has distributed her most important possessions, a group of us are preparing what is left for a yard sale this weekend.
Her things are such a reflection of the life she lived. Although in her eighties, she was adept with the computer and used hers daily, for years printing out our weekly church newsletters and snail-mailing them to congregants without computer access. At the same time, she believed in old methods (Bon Ami scrubbing powder, anyone?) and being prepared (does anyone really need 4 gallons of Clorox?).
And sprinkled throughout everything are the dragonflies. Dragonflies made into bibelot boxes, strands of lights, magnets, tucked into corners, resting on mirrors.
Her apartment was the drop-off spot for the veggies from our church garden. Her neighbors would stop by, visit a bit, and go home with whatever had been picked that day. Before we learned to plant a bit less, the neighbors shared zucchini recipes for the seemingly endless squash harvest.
I doubt that her apartment will stay vacant for long, as it is in the center of a thriving senior community. I hope the “new” neighbor will be welcomed into her space, and blessed by the spirit of Dame Dragonfly.
We will miss you, Johnnie Mae.