A great lady is gone
Jan. 17th, 2006 06:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wendyzskiAs a performer, you touch many lives. You give of yourself, and sometimes it seems as if no one cares. But, all too rarely, someone touches you back, and you are both the better for it.
We met Carol our first season at MiRF. She was an elderly woman with obvious physical difficulties - slightly halted speech, a bit of difficulty getting around. It wasn't until we got to know her that we learned how remarkable she was.
A few years before, she had suffered a severe stroke. Her doctors said she would most likely never walk again. But Carol was not the sort of woman to be told what she could and could not do. Not only did she walk, but she taught herself to play the bowed psaltery as part of her physical therapy. She had several instruments, including a lovely tenor one that made![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jmthane and I positively green with envy. She would bring them to the faire, and loved showing them off.
Carol loved music in all forms. She horrified her daughter by traveling alone to as many faires as she could ("Honey, I'm old! I'll get there when I get there"), and she would set herself down at a venue and watch every show on that stage. We were not the only musicians she shared her light with - she even made garb for some of them. That bright yellow shirt that Craig (Broers) of Farrington has? She made that. This from a woman who was not supposed to be able to walk.
She would sit in the front row, laugh at all our jokes, and turn around to yell at people who were on their cellphones or who were talking through the set. And woe betide anyone too cheap to tip while she was watching. She really was one of the things I remember most about my time at MiRF.
And sadly enough, we never even knew when she was gone.
I learned today that on November 13, 2004, less than 2 months after we last saw her, she was a passenger in a car that was struck head-on. She died instantly.
The world has been a poorer place since then, and I didn't even know it.
She sometimes talked about putting Josie in her will, leaving one of her precious instruments to one who could truly appreciate it. But far more important than that was the legacy she left all of us, by her spirit, her friendship, and her refusal to fold with the crappy hand she was dealt.
Here's to you, Carol. Sorry I'm a bit late with the toast.
*lifts mug on high*
We met Carol our first season at MiRF. She was an elderly woman with obvious physical difficulties - slightly halted speech, a bit of difficulty getting around. It wasn't until we got to know her that we learned how remarkable she was.
A few years before, she had suffered a severe stroke. Her doctors said she would most likely never walk again. But Carol was not the sort of woman to be told what she could and could not do. Not only did she walk, but she taught herself to play the bowed psaltery as part of her physical therapy. She had several instruments, including a lovely tenor one that made
jmthane and I positively green with envy. She would bring them to the faire, and loved showing them off.Carol loved music in all forms. She horrified her daughter by traveling alone to as many faires as she could ("Honey, I'm old! I'll get there when I get there"), and she would set herself down at a venue and watch every show on that stage. We were not the only musicians she shared her light with - she even made garb for some of them. That bright yellow shirt that Craig (Broers) of Farrington has? She made that. This from a woman who was not supposed to be able to walk.
She would sit in the front row, laugh at all our jokes, and turn around to yell at people who were on their cellphones or who were talking through the set. And woe betide anyone too cheap to tip while she was watching. She really was one of the things I remember most about my time at MiRF.
And sadly enough, we never even knew when she was gone.
I learned today that on November 13, 2004, less than 2 months after we last saw her, she was a passenger in a car that was struck head-on. She died instantly.
The world has been a poorer place since then, and I didn't even know it.
She sometimes talked about putting Josie in her will, leaving one of her precious instruments to one who could truly appreciate it. But far more important than that was the legacy she left all of us, by her spirit, her friendship, and her refusal to fold with the crappy hand she was dealt.
Here's to you, Carol. Sorry I'm a bit late with the toast.
*lifts mug on high*
