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Show The By Kate McCutchan When I was little, my great-aunt Mildred and Uncle Willard lived across the road from us. Their world was like a fairy tale to me, why. just across the way way a house full of love, the smell of cookies baking and always time to explore a little girl's curiosity. Uncle Willard taught me how to deal with Clipper, the smug, self-satisfied Shetland pony who ocassionally allowed well-behaved children on his back. There was an old black crow who would peck at Uncle Willard's feet when he was annoyed and perch on his shoulder to groom his balding head when he was pleased. Uncle Willard fixed up a tire swing for us in his back yard, and took it upon himself to explain a few of the delights of nature: fishing for bass in his pond, capturing tadpoles, smelling lilac bushes, birthing foals and lambs. Aunt Mildred's domain was the house. Inside, we could learn to fingerpaint without being scolded for making a mess, play the organ (no matter how off-key), bake yummy things to eat and eat them on the spot. She used to have the most wonderful holiday picnics - we'd serve dinner through the dining room windows to the folks gathered outside on the porch. And, of course, if you stayed past dark, Aunt Mildred would stand by the porch door, light shining brightly, until you were home safe and sound. Those two souls are 83 years old this year, married for 50 years., Now the hardest part of their lives is ahead. Aunt Mildred is fading away in a hospital bed; Uncle Willard comes every day to sit beside her, patting her arm, kissing her cheek. The nurses are amazed: not many men like you around, they say. "It's true love," he says. "You know I wouldn't be any place else but where she is." My heart aches for him, as his aches for her. "It's so hard to let her go," he told me, his blue eyes sparkling with tears. She is barely alive; I feel like begging him to take her home and let her go in peace in their own bed. He must hold on, I suppose. For when she goes, half of him goes with her. Truly they have shown me that love exists, I will never- forget. |