On Christmas eve my beloved Trix took a nap in her chair and never woke up. It was the perfect death.

She liked to read my blog, and other writing; she was always a favorite subject; she'd laugh and say, "My GOD, you make me look like an idiot, Judy!"
Our family was big on showing affection through teasing and humor. 

Despite the fact that most of my subject matter tends to be completely unsuitable for children and nursing or pregnant mothers, she always thought I should be a children's writer, "like Dr. Suess." I have no idea why she thought this.  I stopped rhyming shit in 7th grade after my epic Poetry Tome entitled, "Ireland- A Savage Beauty" completely ripping off not only Leon Uris but Ireland in general. I'm Scottish/Hillbilly and it was probably the worst collection of poetry ever written.  I was an IRA supporter and a complete social outcast, but Trix claimed that I didn't have friends because the other girls were jealous of my beauty.  Yes.  I had zits the size of dinner plates and teeth that could open cans.

She was, and is, one of my role models. She lived a hard, rough, wild life as a young woman, and a varied and interesting life later, but she never lost her optimism or love of people.  She judged NO ONE.  She was one of the only Christians I've ever known who truly lived up to the term.

I'm just sort of stream of consciousness writing this, so I apologize, I have half an hour at a closing downtown coffee shop. I'll end with a favorite story of mine:

Trix left home at 17 to marry my sister's father, Roscoe.  He was a violent mean drunk and abused her for a few years before she finally left him.  One night towards the end of their marriage he came home drunk and mean; he railed insults and injury upon her, and my sister, a toddler,  for a period of time before passing out, at which time Trix took a hair brush and beat him until he had millions of tiny little bleeding red holes all over his face.  She said she didn't know what came over her and she just sort of did it until she stopped doing it and then was horrified at what she'd done.  She worried the next day about what would happen when he saw his face, but he never figured it out. So then she was glad she did it.   

Trix was not a violent person. I can't remember her losing her temper. She was a loving kind woman.  But she was NOT to be messed with; worse still was messing with her loved ones. You always knew she was tough AND good. It's a rare combination.

I love her and I miss her and I hope I can be more like her every day.