Myra Stilborn

Years ago, my first singing teacher brought out a piece of music and said, “The lyrics of this song were written by someone named Stilborn. Is she any relation to you?” Yes. My aunt (by marriage, but as close as blood in our hearts). The song, “Who Seeketh Beauty,” told of someone, who, seeking the beauty of a bird’s song, caught and caged the bird — which then would not sing. Finally, he “opened wide his hands that earth may hear her song.” The cage has been opened, the bird has flown, she is now singing freely. My dear aunt — wonderful poet, wicked player-with-words, talented tatting-wizard, and giggler extraordinaire — died earlier this evening at the age of 95. I will miss her so much. She was like a second mother to me.