Her brothers tried to help her but she was just like a feral cat. She'd get only so close and despite all the patience and kindness they offered she could never bring herself to come inside. She could be maddening, she could be unnerving, when I was a child all the adults all seemed to be filled with exasperation when they mentioned her name and then in an instant they'd recall something hilarious she did. She could be the sunshine of the whole room. When my mother spoke of my fathers's wild sister it was sometimes accompanied with a smile and usually with a sigh.
I think she suffered from depression and tried to make herself feel better with alcohol and drugs on occasion. Eventually she grew out of that but was left a physical wreck. A few days ago my youngest uncle couldn't reach her on the phone and went to her place. He found her unconcious and took her to the hospital. The doctors say that she will die and it could be at any time. Her cancer is just too advanced. The only thing to do is to keep her comfortable and wait. I hope that she has time to reconcile with God. Dear Lord, please carry Emmabelle home.