Memorial

Yesterday, my local immediate family drove up to Northern New Jersey for the Memorial of my great aunt, Mae Erskine Fowler, or just 'Merk'. She had actually passed away in January, but conditions were such that they could not hold the memorial until today. The ceremony was brief, and my Mom read a passage written by our cousin (Merk's granddaughter, unable to make it in from Colorado). The reading reminded me a lot of the woman I knew as Merk.

She had died at age, and for all but the last few years she was in good shape mentally. She was quite ahead of her time, really. A College educated woman, an enthusiastic artist, and definitely not a petite Southern flower. She almost never worse dresses, was instead wearing slacks or jeans, and her hands were almost always a bit dirty from either gardening or from her throwing wheel (she was an enthusiastic potter and had her own studio in the basement of her house). She and her husband made quite the pair, but he passed away in 1984.

Her house was a marvel, it was old enough (18th century) to have a historical marker and was full of antique furniture. That is all gone now, I saw some photos online that showed the empty interior and it was quite shocking. The lot was sold and will likely be subdivided. So the house will likely have a couple of McMansions plopped down next to it. Oh well.

Merk had died at age 99, and her death was not unexpected. She was only occasionally aware and had definitely deteriorated in the past few years. She was a remarkable woman. I remember the many visits to her house (always a long ride, as it was we had to touch just about every major highway in New Jersey to get from Haddonfield to Boonton. I-287, I-80, I-280, GSP, NJ Turnpike, I-295).

This is not as coherent as I might have liked. But I just felt the need to comment about her passing.