Just stopped back after years away from this forum. Nice to see its still there. I started by writing my condolences to Althea, the widow of Irving Crane. Since then, she has joined her beloved husband. We often spoke of her feelings and prayers. She prayed every night for all the family and friends and named each one before going to sleep. I was deeply moved when she said I was included. She prayed to join her husband but she loved life and was grateful for her 97 years of it. I used to visit her and speak of how they met and lived. She was blind, but living still in her own home until the end. It was immaculate and tasteful. She insisted on serving tea and food, but I always insisted on helping in the kitchen. We celebrated her last birthday with a cake and tea with lemon I brought over. Her family had been over the other day. We set on the couch in the living room, she took my hand in hers and spoke of my family that has departed and hers. This brings tears to my eyes as I write this....
I spoke at both of their funerals and said my prayers for her in my heart. Saying thank you for our friendship will never be enough.
Both were very special and dear people and the game of pocket billiards is linked to their memory for me. For that I am grateful. I need not be at the table or even hold a cue in my hands to remember the voice of Mr. Crane suggesting a most subtle way of playing with his gravely, warm voice and a hint of sarcasm that sent me into rare stage-fright at the table - "Well... you hit that about twice as hard as you had to!" When Irving was in the hospital, I brought a plant over to his house and it made its way into his room. He never stopped suggesting that when he recovers, we ought to go out to get some ice cream and for some pocket billiards as he called it. "Never say pool! It's called pocket billiards."
As a concert pianist and having performed on great stages of the world without much worry, running the table while he commented and coached me was the most nerve wracking performance I gratefully remember. I can still hear his voice and it keeps me company at the table. I can also hear Althea and remember our conversations. They keep me company in life.
Althea and Irving are together forever in the love they shared.
I recorded several hours of our conversations and gave them on CDs to the Crane family. I hope that gift will be passed on within the family for many years and generations to come. Sadly, I am not sure where my originals are at this time, but I hope to find them at some point.
