Doris moved into the neighborhood when I was in high school; I took a liking to her, what with her sweet nature and her awesome Scottish accent (authentic!). But I didn't really get to know her until I left home and went off to college.
When I was attending Ricks College/BYU-Idaho, I took a Phonetics class. One of my assignments was to record 3 people with different accents reading the same passage in a book of my choosing, and then transcribe it in the phonetic alphabet, complete with diacritic markings. I came home that weekend and asked Doris if she'd help me out; she was happy to oblige. (Can I just say? I could listen to that lady read all day long! I loved her accent!)
Ever since then, Doris seemed to take an interest in me and my life. We kept in touch as I came home to visit for holidays, or during summer breaks. She was especially excited when I told her I was transferring to USU. (Doris was a professor there for a while, you see, back in the day.)
As I finished my schooling and moved back to Idaho, we still kept track of each other.
And then: I planned my trip to Scotland. Doris was born and raised in Scotland, and I asked her if she'd mind chatting with Carrie and me about what to do while there. We set up a time to discuss the beauties and enchantments of Scotland; the three of us talked for hours, and only now am I realizing that maybe we overstayed our welcome? But she never let us know that; Doris loved Scotland, and was thrilled that we had chosen her native land as our vacation destination. She pointed us in the right directions, and we had an amazing trip.
ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!
When we returned, I brought back some canned haggis and shortbread cookies for her, as an expressing of gratitude and love. I had printed off some pictures, and I told her all about our trip; she sat in rapt interest and ate every word up.
That was nearly four years ago. As time went on, as it always does, Doris's health went south, and she wasn't able to attend church. I made sure to walk around the block to visit whenever I came to town and time would permit.
Because we had more in common than Scotland, you see (although that is a bond that can never be broken). Doris was my friend. We talked about books and travel (that lady has been almost everywhere!) and life in general.
I loved that Doris! She was a little thing, but she was a big example, and for that I will be forever grateful. She was a woman of great faith. She was smart, cultured, charming, funny, and, as my dad put it, she had "refined spunk." I certainly hope some of her goodness has rubbed onto me...
Today was Doris's funeral, and although I'm sad that I can't walk around the block to visit her any more, I'm so happy for her that she's well and healthy again, and that she's back with her beloved husband, John (whom I never met). I held it together quite well (for the most part) until I got to the cemetery and heard the bagpipes playing. (Can I just say? "Amazing Grace" and "Come Thou Fount" on the bag pipes are...well, they're awesome.)
Anyway, here's to you, Doris! I love you lots, and am so grateful to have had you in my life!
Lovely flowers from the lovely Jami...
1 comment:
I know what you mean about listening to people with accents. There was a lady in my old ward from England and I would go get my hair cut from her just to hear her talk.
I am sorry you lost your friend.
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