I’ve known Dot Mithee my whole life. She grew up down the road from my mother, in North Guilford Maine. As a child, I looked forward to her visits. The house would ring with sass and laughter.
My parents rented the Mithee camp on First Davis Pond every July for close to thirty years. Dot would come and stay in her “Shanty”, a small cabin on the same property, and she and Mom would stay up talking into the night.
After her Mom passed, Dot started spending holidays with my family. She’d come for Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner, this year she stayed over on Christmas eve last year. (Here is Edmund helping her shave her head.)
I don’t know what else to say without dissolving into a bunch of unseemly curse words. It was too soon. Too much. Mom and I went to see Dot on Friday, and when we left we felt like there was more time. That we’d see her again. That she’d get to go to camp again. And whatever pain I am feeling, I can only imagine what my Mom is going through. She lost both of her best friends, my father and Dot, within a space of a couple of months. I am so glad that Mom and I visited her last Friday night.
So I will do what we always do when someone we love passes. I will remember the good times. Dad and Bill teasing Dot unmercifully – and her giving it right back to them, or cackling merrily. Quiet nights on the pond, with Dot and Mom catching up after not seeing each other for a couple of months.
What I will remember most is her glorious sense of humor and positive attitude. She was a ray of light, put out too soon.