Some of my fondest memories of my Auntie Diana are when she was playing the piano. She breathed music in and out like air. She made it look effortless and always beautiful.
One of my early Christmas's after I had married into this family where I met Auntie Diana we all sat in her living room and she was at the piano. It was time for some singing. My family is not so musically inclined as my husband's so I thought this would be a real treat. Only, they didn't pass out hymn books or song sheets, they passed out the score to Handel's Messiah...and we sang it...with all the parts...and we could...it was breathtaking.
I remember when four of the sisters, there are five and they all play, decided to do a two-piano, eight hands piece. I can't remember the occasion it was for but I can remember the beauty.
She was one of the gentlest people I know. Her only daughter was born with severe disabilities. I only met Rhonda after we were married, but she was almost always at family functions. She always seemed to be able to handle the difficulties her daughter faced with such grace. We had conversations about that, living life when life hands you something difficult. She loved well.
And then there was the laughter. Those sisters know how to laugh. I love that they have such fun together and made each gathering such a good place to be.
Those sisters know how to listen and encourage and be involved not only in the lives of their own children and grandchildren but in the nieces, nephews and their kids, too. My kids know who Auntie Diana is and they will miss her.
It is impossible to imagine the five of them without their middle.
The glory of it all is that she is free now from the cancer that has ravaged her body and eaten away at her. The glory is that even though she isn't her now, the melody that she has played will keep on singing it's way through the lives of those who have heard it. It was the most beautiful of melodies, filled with harmony and feeling.
We will miss you Auntie Di.