Aunt Ruth and I have been waiting for a publisher. It is a hard time to sell a book of photographs and thoughts about love, life, aging, and ideas of how ordinary people can make a difference in the world.
Aunt Ruth is used to waiting. She survived the loss of her husband, her children, and all of her siblings. She waited for 3 years for me to finish photographing her. We waited for my son's wedding this past May, to see my sister, Jane. Aunt Ruth hadn't seen her niece in 3 years. Travel is hard for both of them. Aunt Ruth is 93, and Jane's 30-year siege with rheumatoid arthritis confined her to a wheelchair.
The wedding was beautiful; the reunion incredible. The wait was over.
My sister, Jane, died recently, and I have now lost both of my sisters within the last 10 months. Phyllis passed away in October. I didn't wait for Aunt Ruth's arms to hold me. She offered them immediately. She understands what my friend, the artist, Karen Sandstrom, wrote to me:
It is a humbling and reeling thing to lose the witnesses to your childhood, and to feel the shrinking of family. I have no wisdom for you -- not that you expected it. But I send hugs.
Aunt Ruth and I are each other's witnesses. The richness of Loving Aunt Ruth is deeper for me the longer we wait for publication. We thank all of you readers for waiting with us and hope that the recipes for a life well-lived have meaning for you as well.
As Aunt Ruth says, Life is for the Living.
Stop waiting...
(photo taken in Aunt Ruth's temple, where she was honored this past summer for being the President on the tenple's 100th anniversary when Aunt Ruth was in her 40's. she is still an active member)
