You laughed often and enthusiastically. You loved silliness and got giggly quite easily. Sometimes when you and our mother got together, a laugh-fest would erupt, and Mum would laugh so hard she’d shed tears.
You listened to opera, folk music, and rock-and-roll, and knew the words and music to every song, and could even sing in German and Ukrainian. We sang Christmas Carols every December, in English and German. You sang the hymns in Gammy’s old hymnal. You could sing anything until that neck operation robbed you of your beautiful singing voice.
You had to speak a lot in your work as a professor. You had very clear enunciation, which I’m sure your students were grateful for. I confess I used to love watching you talk because of the way you moved your mouth. You spoke with as much care as you did everything else. And I could always tell if you were relaxed, worried, annoyed or bored by the way you used your voice.
I hope your voice will go on haunting me. I miss it and I miss you.
treewithroots
What a lovely tribute to an obviously beloved sister. I doubt very much that she saw you as a petunia. I certainly don’t.
Thank you, Judith. Sometimes I feel that way, but not always.
You can listen to her here talking about being a scientist.
Thank you for including this video, Amber. Such a forceful message from such a capable woman. I’ve listened and will try to carry this message with me: believe in yourself and do what you know you must, regardless what others will think.
Thanks for that, Leanne. I’m glad Doreen’s words continue to influence people’s thinking.