The Send-Off

We sent Auntie Lillian off in grand style last weekend.

My sisters all flew in from all the far and wide corners of the country, and we all shared a house on the water in Warwick . . .

. . . just the six Corey Girls, Mom, and our own Mistah Schlecka.

Thank you for hosting us, Mom. That was deeply awesome of you. And thanks especially for that view.

The Committal Service was lovely and intimate and meaningful and perfect . . .

I led things off and then Sissie and Michael and Ann and Jacquie and Mom and Jane all just quite specifically nailed it.

. . . and then?

Luncheon.

The Cowesett Inn was perfect, and we all loved the view.

We reacquainted ourselves with our Annitto cousins . . .

. . . the 12 of us were a fierce bunch, back in the day . . .

. . . and we reveled in our sisterhood.

Oh, those sisters of mine.

And that Mom of mine? She's off the charts, that one. She seems to keep improving every year, which seems impossible, but I'm taking my cue from her.

Me and my co-executrix. My girl Sissie.

Speaking of Mom, she told me my specs were messing up my hair but I did not believe her . . .

 . . . There; that's better.

We had a lovely time back at the homestead . . .

. . . visiting with the once- and twice-removeds . . .

. . . and photo-shopping eachother out of photos . . .

. . . and playing pool. (Don't ask me; this is Julie's new go-to pose, apparently. She *does* rock it.)

It was a lovely home Jane found us, made lovelier by the presence of Jacquie's rad luggage inherited from Aunt Lill.

In the morning the snow came down in a festive and delightful way which the duckies loved . . .

. . . as did the Mistah.

Everybody else? Not so much. Our peeps woke up and said their goodbyes and vamoosed. Bill and I were all packed up and coffeed up and ready to go and Jacquie said to us, "I'll just take an uber to the bus later." I said, "We'll drive you," She said, "But it's not until 11."

It was 9 a.m.

So we had a completely surprising and completely lovely and completely awesome two hours at the house and then we had a completely surprising and completely crazed and completely absurd and completely frenetic trip to get Jacquie to the bus and OF COURSE SHE MADE IT.

She and her rad luggage were the only passengers. I can only hope when the loser passengers boarded in Providence she hissed at them.

I would have.

Schleck and I drove home and have been reveling in the success of the weekend, and in the memories of our lovely auntie ever since.

Julie provided so many of these photos, including this one. The sausage bread! Included in the obituary I put together. I hope Jacquie includes her eulogy here soon, too: it was fabulous.

Look at that Auntie Lillian of ours . . .

. . . look at her with her baby brother Joe. Luggage! A legacy indeed.

It's been amazing and intense diving so deeply into one "opinionated, smart, frugal, warm, fun, tough, funny, proud, loving" woman's life these last few weeks.

We miss you big, Aunt Lill.