Dobbie

Putting information about your life on the internet is a strange thing. While the intention of the blog is to keep friends and family updated on what’s happening here, the nature of a public blog means it’s open to strangers as well. And so you end up self-editing and not getting overly personal. There are better ways than a blog to say personal things to important people.

But when I look at the diary entries about our lives here there is one thing that shouts much louder by its omission. My grandma Dobbie died two weeks ago at 93. She was very important to me and the toughest person I know. She proved it several times over the past months by tenacious recoveries when medical professionals were convinced she was finished. I suspect that in the end she didn’t lose her battle with old age but instead she just didn’t feel it necessary to show old age once again who was boss. She was, as my dad put it, one tough Indian.

While I miss her very much, I’m lucky to have her in my memories and in my genes. She is part of everything we’re doing here in Italy and strongly approved of the whole idea. I won’t say more, except to point out to anybody reading this that there’s a strong presence between the lines of all these entries. Maybe even stronger now she’s gone.