My cousin Patty died this week. In memory of her, I want to share this story, which I recall with loving humor.
When I was ten and my cousin Patty was five, her mother, Millie, became extremely ill. Feeling a little desperate for a sitter, Darrell (Patty’s dad) and Auntie decided that I seemed old enough for the job. (Maybe so, if Patty had been an ordinary child.) Patty never fit the description of ordinary.
Although Patty and I had strict orders to leave Millie alone, Patty was equally determined to telephone her mother. All afternoon, Patty and I struggled over the telephone. Finally, when Patty picked up the phone, I took some scissors and cut the line. Continue reading