My cousin, Muffie Valentine Albert, died last Tuesday at age 89. (Obit is here.) She was a dear and loving presence all of my life (even if she was part of that small minority within the clan who went to Stanford rather than Cal.)
She was the last of her age cohort; with her passing, my mother’s generation is now the most senior in our large and extended family. There is no one left who belongs to the generation of my grandparents. She was the last member of my family who remembered her grandfather, who came to California as a boy after the Gold Rush. With Muffie gone, no one is left who knew that generation of pioneers — those who came around the Horn or in covered wagons, who remembered the Civil War well.
We’ll have much to say about Muffie — and about the great majority she’s gone to join — when we gather as a family this Thanksgiving at the Ranch her grandfather (my great-great grandfather) built a very long time ago.
Whenever you put up one of your family obituaries (and I know you’ve lost a lot of family this past year), I feel as if I get this OKOP thing of yours. What people put in a family obituary says so much about their class values. And I’m sorry, how wonderfully OKOP is the name “Muffie”. In alll seriousness though, I am sorry for your loss as a family.
I’m sorry for your loss. Has anyone written down Muffie’s memories?
Her son, my cousin, is an amateur historian and has done so. Thanks, Shawna.