Where were you when you heard the news?

This post was supposed to be about the end. The end of the year, not the end of someone’s life. The post I had written needed only one more reading before it went live. However, that changed when I heard the news.

I was on my way back from picking up pizza from Frank’s Pizza in Stewiacke. It was for my youngest son’s birthday supper. On the Bokma Plains, the song ended, and the announcer came on. My finger was on the way to the button to put on another station to have non-stop music when I heard her name. My finger hovered over the button.

Betty White had passed away 18 days shy of her 100th birthday.

Her face instantly came to mind. I’ve been watching Betty all my life. She’d been acting longer than I was alive. My mom and I loved Golden Girls and saw every episode. In fact, Betty reminded me a lot of mom.

Now she’s gone. Just like that.

I came into the house and told my youngest son, only 19. “What?” His face filled with shock.

He knew who she was. Incredibly, in Betty’s older years, she had made an impression on my kids when they were in high school. They all knew and admired her.

My daughter came in, and I told her the news. She wore the same shocked expression and screeched, “What?” Not 30 minutes later, my oldest son came in, heard the news and did the same thing.

Betty was timeless. We probably thought she’d live forever like Clint Eastwood will. It’s a horrible way to end a year. I hope she went peacefully, painlessly, into that great light beyond what humans can see.

Her legacy will live on for many decades to come. Rest in Peace, Betty. You were one fine lady. As my Newfoundland grandmother, who lived until she was 97, would say, you were the finest of kinds.