Monday, January 26, 2009
This morning I received word that my dear friend, Dell Bunch, passed away. To say I am heartbroken is an understatement.
When my Oldtimer and I first moved to Warrenton, Dell "adopted" us. She took us under her wing, introduced us to people, and generally watched over us. When we opened the big store, Oldtimer & Lily, she was there with us, every day of the first year, to help in the store and make sure we weren't working too hard. She never took a dime in payment.
Dell truly was like an adoptive mother to me. We vacationed at the beach with her and her daughters and their families. New to town, she helped me find my doctor, my dentist, my dry cleaner. We had dinners, went to auctions, worked the stores, and no one promoted my soaps and lotions like she did. She loved my children as though they were her own grandchildren, and made sure they were invited to Christmas morning breakfast whenever they were in town.
Dell did things for me that my own mother would not have done. One of the most significant things was sitting in the waiting room when I had my gall bladder surgery. When it was time to get dressed and leave the recovery room, she was right there, helping me put on my clothing, and easing me out of the hospital. I still remember her bending over and helping me get my foot through the opening of my panties, and saying "Come on, honey, you don't have anything I haven't seen before." If you knew how I'd been brought up, you would know how significant that is to me.
I wish I had a better photo to share, even though I love this one of her behind the Oldtimer & Lily counter. I wish you could see the sparkle in her bright blue eyes, hear the rasp of her unique voice, sense her energy. At the risk of being trite, the world is truly a poorer place for her passing. I know that her "real" daughters and granddaughter are going to miss her terribly.
I love you, Dell.