Eugenia Pratt Slack Morse, 11/6/1920 - 12/12/2010

I arrived at the house: Woodlands.  The soothing smell of the woods seemed to seep through my nostrils; the air seemed to permeate through my pores.  The familiar descent of the driveway, we were greeted by numerous cars parked there.  There was a gathering.  Mom's hug and kiss.  Tami gave me a hug, I arrived just as she was ready to leave.  Inside I met Aunt Genia, Uncle Kip, Uncle Harry, Mom, Genia, Henry and Elsa playing in the living room, hugs all around. And there sat Grammy, in her spot on the couch in the living room.  I greeted her frail presence with a kiss.  A space was cleared for me to sit next to her.  She held my hand for a long time.  Her breath was short, her speech was slurred, but she was as dignified and peaceful as ever.

Over the course of the evening: we ate, we laughed, we talked, we were with one another, and it was wonderful.

It became late, time for her to go to bed.  She had a slight black out due to cardiovascular weakness, and shortness of breath.  Uncle Harry and Aunt Genia revived her, and so as is her usual routine she put cold cream and Vaseline on her face, brushed her teeth, put her pjs on, and lied down in bed.  When it came my turn to say good-night, we gazed into each others eyes, hers looked brighter than usual, less blue, more hazel; the gazed lasted some time. Words were exchanged: "I love you."  This phrase she always felt was unnecessary. It was a given, always; but she said those words to me tonight, and I said them to her.  Those words were enough. No need to say the usual, "Sleep well;" or "See you tomorrow." Those words said it all.  May you rest, beloved grandmother.

It was so wonderful to see all the beautiful contributions to the album of memories shared by family and friends of Gene Morse on her 90th birthday. For posterity's sake, here's mine: