A memorial, a celebration of a woman's life, was held in my church and I attended. For she was a great little old lady, she had a heart that would have been crowded in a giant and she loved her world well with it. I normally duck mentions of death, especially if I know the person and want to remember them alive -- in my mind they never leave, their memory and spirit are always present. I find the pictures of her as a young woman with a short skirt and a hulking dashing boy friend leaning on a truck interesting - I certainly didn't know her then, looking at her grand-daughter I can imagine her young and lovely, but I knew her as elder and frail and interested and happy. Her husband is going to be lost for a bit, she was the center of his world.
I keep reading about war, for I pretend that I understand it too well, and I found this on the Rogue Gunner's blog. My concerns about cultures that risk their women fade as I read and wonder at this pilot and her duty well done. Never doubted their bravery, never doubted their skills, only wonder at our culture's wasting warriors and wenches for fat politicians... I am probably wrong to value women as potential mothers, there are so many of them that won't be, shouldn't be, and can't be... but still, I think a loving mother is the best thing for a baby and child, and no government program will ever match nature's.
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