I grew up in a small town. Living in a place like that there are certain people who punctuate your life, the doctor and preacher are there at birth, death, and some events in between. There's others too that aren't so obvious though, like the florist. The florist was there for all your celebrations and sorrows, behind the scenes, helping. Birth, sickness, homecoming, prom, wedding, childbirth (again), and death. She eased your way with color and texture and sweet smells of pretty flowers that are there for and instant and then gone, or pressed in a book maybe.
My great aunt helped raise me and she was the town florist. I remember being little and sitting on the tall stools in her shop helping make picks from the crinkly and brightly colored cellophane. She was a business woman, strong, proper, concerned, loving and she had a great laugh. She was my grandmother's twin sister and they were the youngest of eleven siblings.
Yesterday she passed away, the last of the siblings living. With her goes the feeling I always had that I could go back to a place that was frozen in an earlier time. I will miss that.
Her oldest son survives her, she goes on to be with her husband, her youngest son, and all ten of her older siblings. I will miss her greatly but I wish her a wonderful reunion with them and all the others that await her too. Love you Aunt Niecey.
Janiece Hendrixson Springer 11/12/1921 - 11/7/2009
