The Gun Line MkIII

requiescat in pace

Phyllis Langfitt Freseman Kramer

b. August 3rd, 1927, d. May 8, 2010

It is inevitable that, as time passes, those who are our elders begin to depart to their Eternal Rest and Glory.

Unfortunately, these very same persons are the ones who filled our early years with memories.  Our grandparents, our Great Aunts and Uncles, our Cousins however many times removed, in memories from a childhood long past that hopefully contain the joys of the fellowship shared with family.

Life happens, however, and while we would like to say that we hold fast with our family, the reality is that we are a mobile people, and, especially in the Service, we are not always afforded the opportunity to stay in close proximity with all of our kith and kin, and thus, when a relative with whom we have not remained in contact passes away, we must draw upon those faint memories, and hope that we, in our own poor way, to honor our departed kin, and assure those with more recent experiences and proximity, that they who have departed are honored, and all that was the best of them celebrated.

And so do I remember well my cousin, Phyllis, from the days when I was a youth in Old Virginia, who shuffled off her mortal coil and went to God on Saturday.

As I recall, Phyllis was not what one would call “petite”…  And I do not believe such a moniker would do her justice, because the Phyllis I remember had a largeness of spirit about her, in fact, to my youthful recollection, she was more a force of nature: bold, dynamic, and expressive in her affections almost to the point of intimidation.  In extended families, there are those who are born to be matrons, and I remember that Phyllis was well suited to the role, a  veritable General of troops at social gatherings, a loud center of activities when the Clan gathered.

But there was love…  Love that swept through the gathered throng in the finest traditions of those cultures who celebrate family.  Any Italian, Russian, or Greek native would instantly recognize this love, and throw themselves bodily into the mix with nary a moment’s hesitation, fully understanding the rules of the game.

For me, used to smaller places, and quieter climes, it was a little overwhelming, and potentially frightening…

But Phyllis wouldn’t allow that, and my fondest memory of her was the time she spent making sure that I was included – nay – thrust into the mix, to fend for myself in a happy maelstrom of familial affections.  A little frightened, but knowing that I was safe.

I remember you with great fondness, cousin Phyllis, and a great presence in the world has fallen quiet, to our loss.

God speed, cousin, and His blessings upon those who mourn your passing.