June 4, 2017:

"No cholesterol!", she'd say, in her ancient scratchy oldwoman voice. I wanted to tell her the yolk is pretty much 100% cholesterol, but I concluded she'd not understand.

She smelled of grime, as though she were neglecting to wash her person or her clothes, which were probably both true.

She was lonely and would sit in our office for company. The owner, a belligerent entitled fat woman who'd have been a bag lady if she hadn't been born rich, frequently expressed her exasperation. "I don't want her here scaring away business."

When she was dying she came to us for comfort. The only people she knew. I expected we'd give her a room to rest in but the owner threw her out.

Although I had no ability to affect the outcome I still felt very guilty, so that when prople in town looked at me I thought it was accusatory. Sometimes when you work you just keep your head down. I wished I hadn't.

I forget to pray for her. She was peripheral, unlike the many family members and loved ones I've outlasted.

I'll pray for her now.

Alice. Seventh Day Adventist. Died in La Jolla in 1984 or 5. Bless her and rest her soul.