Aunt Ruth and I have been waiting for a publisher. It is a hard time to sell a book of photographs and thoughts about love, life, aging, and ideas of how ordinary people can make a difference in the world.
Aunt Ruth is used to waiting. She survived the loss of her husband, her children, and all of her siblings. She waited for 3 years for me to finish photographing her. We waited for my son's wedding this past May, to see my sister, Jane. Aunt Ruth hadn't seen her niece in 3 years. Travel was hard for both of them. Aunt Ruth was 93, and Jane's 30-year siege with rheumatoid arthritis confined her to a wheelchair. The wedding was beautiful; the reunion incredible. The wait was over.
My sister, Jane, died shortly after the wedding, but I didn't wait for Aunt Ruth's arms to hold me. She offered them immediately. She understands what my friend, the artist, Karen Sandstrom, wrote to me:
"It is a humbling and reeling thing to lose the witnesses to your childhood, and to feel the shrinking of family. I have no wisdom for you -- not that you expected it. But I send hugs."
Aunt Ruth and I are each other's witnesses. The richness of Loving Aunt Ruth is deeper for me the longer we wait for publication. We thank all of you readers for waiting with us and hope that the recipes for a life well-lived have meaning for you as well.
As Aunt Ruth says, Life is for the Living. Stop waiting...