faithful to the journey of life

Wednesday was a crisp and clear September morning out on the North Fork of Long Island. The funeral for my grandmother was held at St. Patrick's in Southold at 10am. Tim did one of the most poignant readings of Ecclesiastes. Father Ken spoke about my grandmother being faithful to the journey of life as we all must strive to be. My mother called him a tough act to follow but she did fabulous herself. Anne Denzler Worth was a lady in every sense of the word and we honored that. Following church and a gathering in the cemetery to bring Nanny back by my grandfather's side we migrated to the water to have lunch and reminisce and enjoy the day as Anne and Bud would have.
(Oh, you know you can click on the pictures to see them enlarged)
Everywhere we looked there were subtle reminders of the joys my grandparents found during their lives. It was a perfect day to be on the water. I loved when we used to take an evening ride on Pop-Pop's boat after dinner.

Nanny was always a lover of birds and bird watching so all the visitors were welcome.


Pepi's had a great big tented area loaded with food and drink but most of us gathered to bask in the sun out back.
Cousin Skip and my dad.

Mom having a blast telling stories to Joanie Worth and Aunt Brennie.

Uncle Whoop was looking sharp.

Ed Worth and Tom Fantini hoped on the cocktail train. The family made sure there was no lack of Canadian Club, Nan's drink of choice.

I hadn't seen my cousins Mike and Skip together in a while so that was really a treat. Talk about a couple of great characters.

My cousins on my dad's side made the trip down from Connecticut with my Aunt and that really meant a lot to my folks. Sue Woods and Gian Carlo Feleppa were keeping it positive.

We were all tempted to hop in the water. Frosty and Tim at least got to wriggle their toes a bit. Morgane had just flown east from LA and we were so glad she did.

Ea was stealing the show all morning and afternoon. Here she is in the arms of my mom, the newly appointed grandmother. And here we are, accepting the joy and sorrow life brings, and through it all doing our best to be faithful to the journey.

Nanny's last pie

Friday night in the middle of the night I woke. I waited a moment and heard it again, a beep from the kitchen. I figured my brother had finally called back after we had gone to bed. In a sleepy haze I got up and checked my voicemail. In the darkness of the kitchen the phone shone a cool blue light as my mother's voice told me Nanny had finally passed away. The strongest woman I know, a true matriarch, endured a quick and serious battle with cancer, and finally decided to let go. Sighs of relief are inevitable following such a disease, though so sad and weighted. And relief for my parents who had done so much to maintain for Nan a quality of life that she deserved.

We drove out that evening and swooped Uncle Whoop up along the way in Islip. Saturday friends and family and loving sentiment kept arriving. My mom just wanted to be surrounded by love so that's what we did. The phaelanopsis above came first. Then this beautiful creation:
I don't know I've ever seen Sedum and Hydrangea used together in an arangement, although I am no floral design authority. I could see Nanny standing over it and marvelling at it, the way she would lightly touch her chest and nose forward with such peaceful curiosity.
Pop and color and beauty we made sure to have everywhere. Orange ranunculus and orange roses with paeony and hydrangea, pretty wow.
Eventually we gathered around the table to feast on fresh local seafood and veggies Mark had brought from upstate. The whiskey and wine were flowing. We sat and shared stories of the past, of boats and fishing and growing up on the water. We laughed about family and friends and the Worth siblings still calling the undertaker by his ancient nickname of "Tiger". Eventually Aunt Bonnie pulled out an apple pie and cut it up for everyone to have a taste. Before we dug in Bonnie said something that made my heart skip a beat. This was Nanny's last pie, which Bonnie had saved from Nan's last trip north. You see, nobody's apple pie was like Anne Worth's apple pie. Local apples, the perfect ratio of cinnamon to sugar, and a crust even better than you can imagine. The perfect apple pie is a phenomenon for many families, I am sure, but Nanny's hands forged an ideal version that was always the greatest we knew. "Often imitated and never duplicated" doesn't even come close. This was a real moment, a brilliant long life of adventure and hard work and focus and love encapsulated in a single wedge of apple pie. There is no question it was her finest.