She was missing an eye. Her tongue hung out the side. She had arthritis that left her walking like John Wayne. Yet Ester ate like a horse and could tear into garbage like nobody’s business. She could also snort-sleep with the best of them. For her relentless positivity and creaky looks, Ester was my muse. On Sunday morning she passed away. I can’t even begin to express how wrenching this is to me. (And more so to her family.) Ester: You shall be sorely missed.
