The Looking Glass
by Jennifer Johnston
My dear friend ... our dear friend ... Lynn died last night. She had been very ill for quite some time, and in many conversations I had with her around the time of Paula's death in 2002 ... and since her health began declining rapidly after she survived Hurricane Katrina (as she wrote about so movingly in her post to the Reflections blog, The Times of Our Lives: August 29 2005 ... Mississippi Rising, published January 31, 2008) ... and in the last weeks before she had to enter an assisted living facility ... I know that Lynn was prepared for her death ... indeed preferred that she not linger and suffer, wanting to leave as gently as possible, without prolonging the suffering of her family and friends.
Even knowing all that, and supporting and seconding her feelings on the subject, today is still full of memories, and tears, and the terrible knowledge that I will never hear her voice, or her laugh, or see her trademark flame-red hair in this life, except in some quiet visitation on some starry night or in the mist of a tranquil morning.
When we were young, riding around Childress and taking forbidden trips out of town to Quanah, or Memphis or Shamrock or wherever, Lynn and I would laugh over some of our adventures (or misadverntures, in some cases) and she would tell me that someday she wanted me to write a book about us. The title of the book was to be "I See Red!" ... "Red" also being one of Lynn's nicknames.
Well, I do see Red, last night and today ... she is here with me, as vibrant and alive and full of fun and mischief as she ever was ... and so I will see her through the rest of my days as I try not to mourn her passing ... because Lynn has embarked on her next great adventure, leaving the rest of us to miss her beyond any words we could ever say or write.
For all the fun we had in high school, some of my best memories of Lynn will always include the trip she made with Yahn and me in 2003 to Ireland ... a place she had always wanted to see. We had such a good time driving around the southwestern part of the country (even with me trying to deal with the right-hand steering wheel and left-hand gear shift) ... seeing Killarney, and the Ring of Kerry, and the Rock of Cashel, and finally finding the ruins of Purcell Castle in County Tipperary ... staying a few nights at Ballyseede Castle in Tralee, and a few nights at a bed and breakfast in Cashel, and a week in our gorgeous little cottage overlooking Bantry Bay in Glengarriff.
Lynn Purcell Durham at Purcell Castle, County Tipperary, Ireland
... on vacation with Jennifer and Yahn, June 2003
Even when the car blew two tires (when we were almost run off the narrow Irish road by a HUGE tour bus) and we had to wait several hours for a repair truck while we gazed on the beautiful lakes of Killarney, it was fun and a great adventure! I always knew that was one of the best trips Yahn and I had ever taken, but now I treasure the memories even more.
I've had a flurry of e-mails and phone calls since last night from others who dearly loved or cared about Lynn ... so I know (as she does) that there will be many who will miss her, and remember her in the days to come. Joe Don, as always, has been so kind and supportive ... and Nicki's thoughts have meant so much ... and of course there are those of us who remain from "the Naughty Nine" (the Nine), as well as her sons, Jeff and Corey, her sisters Dana and Billie, her brother Ben and the rest of her family.
I've talked and e-mailed with Raenell (who thankfully took care of sending an arrangement from us, and from Joe Don) to Lynn's services, and JoAnn, and Linda Sally Doyal and Pat Davenport Shapiro. As I write, I haven't been able to reach Shirley Neel Cromartie, or Linda Kay, whose phones (and probably e-mail) may have been knocked out by the massive thunderstorms in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area last night and this morning. During one particularly turbulent bout, I couldn't help but have the thought that it would be just like Lynn to be so dramatic when she said goodbye to all of us, as she did to me last night.
During one of our conversations a few months ago, Lynn mentioned that when she died, she wanted me to use for her the memory of the Nine which I wrote when Paula died. I previously published this on the Reflections blog in a memorial piece on Paula (Joyeaux Annivesaire, Cher Paula!, posted September 2, 2007), but now, for Lynn, I reprint this portion of that post.
At Paula's funeral, in May 2002, her family honored us by insisting that our group enter the services separately, just before the immediate family, and we were seated in a separate section, also at the direction of Paula's family, in loving acknowledgment of our "special" relationship with Paula. Jimmy Smith (Raenell's husband) sang "Peace in the Valley" so perfectly that there was not a dry eye in the house ... not that there were many, anyway. And I ... and the girls ... felt SO honored and surprised that as part of the eulogy, at the family's request, the minister read something that was especially written to place beside and then put into the casket with with Paula, bearing all our signatures. It said, in part:
"We were the Nine ... the 'Naughty Nine' as we liked to style ourselves in those more innocent and carefree days, before pain, and age and life itself swept us up and carried us along, caught in its inexorable current. Not really 'naughty', but more adventurous, and full of fun, and eager to challenge the world and make it our own. We grew to the edge of maturity together, and grew to love each other, and fought with each other, and fought together against those who didn't understand, or didn't care, or were thoughtless or cruel. We were the Nine.
"Time passes, and friendships fade, but throughout the years, there has been a bond that tied us, one to another, even unto death ... even to this day, and beyond. Paula is our first lost sister. But each of us will follow, in our turn. And yet, somehow, the Nine remain, the Nine endure.
"We were the Nine, we are the Nine, we will be the Nine again, when all of us have embarked on that same journey that now takes Paula from this place and time. ... We who remain wish her bon voyage ... until we meet again.
"We are the Nine."
Raenell, Shirley and I rode with Lynn to the cemetery service, lost in our own thoughts and memories for the most part. Lynn parked the car (I was "shotgun", as usual) and we walked slowly toward the grave site. After a few minutes, Lynn and I were looking around, wondering what had happened to Raenell and Shirley. We both looked back at the same time, and saw Rae and Shirl frantically beating on the back window of Lynn's car. Lynn had accidentally locked them in the back seat by tripping the locks as she exited the car. And I believe I could hear Paula's laughter carried on the constant wind....
Now Lynn and Paula are laughing together again ... and the Nine are now seven, at least on this plane.... Be seein' ya, Red....
)O(
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