In Loving Memory of my sister,
Gloria (Peach) Fosket Ice,
May 24, 1954 — April 28, 2022

For Christmas one year I gave each of my family members a book I had written called Growing Up Fosket. I’d included a story or poem about each family member. The quasi-poem below follows no particular rules of poetry. But it does follow Peach through many eras of her life.

Her love of beautiful things drew her to fancy clothes; her practicality put her in the appropriate apparel for the occasion. Peach’s love of life and of children and of fun demanded different outfits. Her love of music provided her with an entire closet of dresses from music groups and wedding parties.

I wrote the poem before Peach was married. A few days ago my son Samuel read the poem and provided the Spoiler Alert.

What Are You Wearing Today?

Sweet little girl with white-blond curls
and a nose that turns up on the end —
what are you wearing today?
A pink gingham dress,
with wide white lace on the gathered skirt,
a black velvet vest,
and brand new shoes.
Don’t you look pretty!
If you walk flat-footed
you won’t wrinkle those shoes
and they’ll look nice even longer.

Happy young girl with your siblings and cousins,
spending the week in a tent —
what are you wearing today?
Shorts and a cotton shirt
(hoping to catch a little sun)
and a great big smile.
You’ve got on your tennies
to get you to the beach
and around the trails of camp.
We hear you coming,
you and your happy group of friends.

Teenage girl with your arms full of books
and a brother on either side —
what are you wearing today?
A wool pleated skirt,
a cable knit sweater
and a stylish pin on your heavy coat.
Warm you are,
dressed in your winter garb,
surrounded by your two best beaus.

Young woman with the radiant face
and the smooth, clear voice —
what are you wearing today?
Chiffon, crepe, or qiana?
…flowing or straight?
…to the floor or to the knees?
So many dresses; so many groups.
So many people
delighted by your music.

Little girl at heart,
who likes to make people happy —
what are you wearing today?
Are you dressed as a very warm bear
visiting a very “doped up” sister
in the hospital?
Or are you dressed as a mysterious young man
with a deep unknown voice
presiding over a carnival?

Studious woman living alone
and coping with the rigors of life —
what are you wearing today?
A long black gown, blue velvet stole
and a flat black cap,
evidence of the hours of study
and determination to follow God’s call
on your heart.
Ah, what a glorious triumph!

Preacher woman, standing in the pulpit,
Bible open and notes typed LARGE —
what are you wearing today?
A tailored black suit
with a fine string of pearls
and sensible shoes on your feet.
How beautiful are those feet,
swollen and sore,
for the message they help you to carry.

Pastor Peach, lover of children
and those who love children —
what are you wearing today?
A VBS t-shirt and an old pair of jeans,
just right for building birdhouses
or setting up an obstacle course
or hugging babies.
Your life is reproduced a hundred times
in the lives of the people you lead.

Woman of the earth, bent over your roses
or placing bulbs in the ground —
what are you wearing today?
Shorts and a tank top,
plenty of sunscreen,
and old cotton gloves.
Rejuvenated by the hard work,
you take great satisfaction
in turning a patch of dirt
into a flowering oasis —
a joy to you and to others.

Plum tuckered woman, seeking a little space
and a little peace and quiet —
what are you wearing today?
Your nightie and bathrobe,
Socks* on your lap
and slippers on your feet.
Pajama Day!
You’ll indulge in a good cooking show
or an old movie.
In the morning you’ll be fresh
and ready to go again.

I wonder,
what will you wear tomorrow?

(Samuel’s Spoiler Alert: She’ll be in radiant light.)

*”Socks” was Peach’s cat in the 90s.

Fosket Family, 1958

At Butchart Gardens in Victoria, Canada, mid-1970s

Seminary Graduation, mid-1990s

Peach and Mom, Thanksgiving Day, 2021

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Thank You

Thank you for the outpouring of love and care you have shown to our family these last two weeks since Peach died unexpectedly. Your calls, cards, flowers, hugs, responses on Facebook, and many other kindness have blessed us.

And we have so appreciated your prayers. I now understand why so many sympathy cards talk about comfort. It seems to me that comfort is the first need that the grieving experience. God has swathed us in comfort in response to prayer and in keeping with his lovingkindness. Thank you for praying.

Peach’s memorial service will be held in the summer. When we have the date I’ll let you know.

Thank you for loving my sweet sister.

In all your struggles and sorrows may the Lord comfort you, be gracious to you, and give you peace.

Love,
Ginger