Pat

Our friend Pat died this week.  We received word from her daughter yesterday.  

Her death was, sadly, no surprise.  She had been diagnosed with lung cancer several months ago, and about a month ago told us that while she had announced her cancer to us, she had not told us that at the time she was diagnosed, she was stage 4.   She knew her time was short.

I was feeling well, except for a tiny little twinge in my right chest.  The tumor was inoperable because of size and involvement with a vertebra. Without treatment, prognosis was guessed at 6 mo. to a year, she wrote.

She started a course of treatment but nothing worked except she felt worse, so she made the decision to let nature take its course.

Since then, I've done pretty well, slowing down, but able to do most necessary shopping, library visits, all the essential things of life.  :-)  Up to now. As of mid-August,  I'm super-slowed. Walking is  shaky, worse every day, close to impossible now.

She went on hospice care and her daughter and son-in-law moved in to take care of her so she could die at home.  She continued to send e-mails, but when those stopped, we knew that the end was near. At her request there was no funeral and will be no formal memorial.

I first met Pat on CompuServe back in the 1980s.  We were part of the very active Women's Issues forum and formed a really close friendship.  I first met her face to face when C, another member of the group was about to leave her husband and needed moral support.  Pat took the train from Southern California, I drove from Northern California and we met C in Santa Barbara.  

Later, in 1996, we decided to give her further support by going together to take the train to Colorado to meet a 4th member of the group.  C loved trains and we felt that focusing on the train trip and not the divorce would be helpful for her.  It turned out that everybody wanted to join us.  In the end 20 people (19 women and 1 man) met for the first time. We came from all over the U.S., and even from England.

We called our gathering "Netstock" and when it was over, we decided that we had had so much fun we wanted to do it again.  Over the years our Netstock group has met in Portland; Seattle; Austin, Tx; Washington, DC; Milwaukee; Ashland, Oregon; and even London (we all landed for Netstock on 9/11...that was an odd Netstock!)...have I forgotten a location?

We have been there for each other through births, deaths, divorces, weddings, illnesses and major life events.  We have shared our joys and our sorrows.   I love these people as if they were my own siblings.  When CompuServe forums began to disintegrate, we moved our discussion group to a private Yahoo site and have continued to keep up a lively discussion there. Pat is actually the second of the group to leave us, though the first one, a few years ago, had not been active in a long time. This one hurts more.

I find it almost unbelievable how much I miss someone I saw in person only about 8 or 10 times in almost 20 years, wrote one of our group today.

Walt and I saw Pat regularly when we traveled to So. California because we usually stayed at her house.  She was with us the first time I saw The Last Session, the show that changed my life.

Professionally, Pat was a music editor.  We knew her best for her work on Walker, Texas Ranger, but she has an impressive bio on IMDB and I always remembered that her ex-husband was on the creative team for Gumby. When we knew her, she worked at home and I enjoyed it when she showed me how she added music to film clips.   She was quick to assure me that Walker had no violence, it only had action.

At her request there was no funeral and no official memorial service, but since we are scattered all over the world, we wanted an opportunity to grieve together, so we are holding a "virtual memorial" on Yahoo tomorrow.  This group has had a lot of virtual parties over the years, Pat a very active participant (and me not so much because I'm about as social on line as I am in person!).  But we will be "bringing" significant foods.  Ellen (I think) is "making" Pat's recipe for vegetarian lasagne, which was printed in one of the two group cookbooks that we have published over the years; Tricia is "making" margaritas; Mary will bring a box o'wine, which featured prominently on many of our gatherings.  I decided to make "gooey balls," which is an Indian dessert for which I have no recipe, but that doesn't matter since it's "virtual."  The last meal Walt and I had with Pat was at an Indian restaurant in Burbank and she raved about their gooey balls (a dessert), so it seems appropriate.  Evil Sian will be joining the group from Orkney and brining Twiglets, that vile British snack that we tasted in 1996 and agreed was the spawn of Satan. But then Sian is that kinda person.

And I'm sure we will all sing "Itsy Bitsy Spider."   Pat insisted that those damn spiders were itsy bitsy, even though we know they should be eensy weensy...but just once I'll let her have her way.

Goodbye, my friend.  You will be missed so much.

A Little Compassion

I received the most beautiful letter from Shallon, now 17 years old, one of the girls I sponsor in Uganda.  I have a query in to Compassion.   I began writing to Shallon in early 2010, at which time her information read that she lived with her mother and her siblings.  Things may have changed (or they may have meant "grandmother," which is what I am trying to clear up.)

Anyway, Shallon doesn't write a lot but when she does she writes wonderful letters. (It helps that she reads and writes English, so we don't have to go through translators.)  She wants to be a nurse when she graduates from the program, which should be in two years, I think.

But this letter just grabbed me by the heart and brought tears to my eyes.

My mother Beverly Sykes,

Let me take this opportunity to thank God who has given me this golden chance to greet you.  How are you, my mother?  I have taken a long time without talking with you and I thank God for this chance.   Really, my mother, I am happy to see my photo copy.  Thank you very much for the gift you sent to me.  

[When I received the new photo of Shallon, above, I made a copy and sent it to her, because I don't think they get a copy themselves and, being such a nut about photos of my own kids, I thought her family would like to have a copy.]

I have read your letters but I was not happy with your knees.  I want a story about what happened to get that damage?  But I thank God who has given you that cane which help your knees to feel better. Really that is a good thing.  

[I sent her a picture from our vacation, where I am walking with a cane and explained how I happened to be using a cane.]

 How is your husband, Ned, Brianna, baby Lacie and your friends?   Tell your friends that I love them. 

[Char and Mike--Shallon loves you!  (She saw pictures of the four of us on our vacation.)  None of the kids I sponsor ever get the names of my own kids right.  Somehow everybody mentions Ned and almost nobody mentions Jeri or Tom, which is weird because I always send pictures of all three kids when I include photos.] 

We are in wet season where we are planting millet and beans, which you have said that beans some people call it a super food.  You have asked me whether I have ever eaten a cherry.  Surely I have never eaten it.  Which color does a cherry have? 

My mother, I got the position which is the same with last term's position.   I was fifth out of eighty one students in our class.  I don't know whether next term I am going to get a new position.  If it is a new position I am going to increase because our class has many students like two hundred and above students.  

I am happy with the verse you sent to me because it has improved me to have love with my friends. 

[I know how important Bible verses are for these kids, but not being a Bible-reader, it's difficult for me to send verses.  However, I did find one about Ruth and Naomi because it was a nice story about friendship]

I thank God and you very much because you have helped me in many things. When my mother died, I didn't know that I was going to get another mother like you.   Praise the Lord.  

[This was the part that brought tears to my eyes, because first of all, I didn't know her mother was dead, and secondly, she and Fred (from the Philippines) are the two kids I feel the closest to and it touched my heart that she considers me her second mother. In her earliest letter to me, she called me "My best friend"]

 I think that I will write to you soon.  I wish you nice time.   May God bless you.  

From your daughter,
Katusiime Shallon

Shallon started out as a correspondence child, a child whose financial sponsors don't want to write to them, for one reason or another, so Compassion finds people who are willing to write to the children. But then the people who were sponsoring her decided, for whatever reason, not to continue and I was given the right of first refusal -- did I want to take over her sponsorship or not?  At that time I felt I already had a nice relationship with her, and so I took on the additional sponsorship.   I am so glad I did.  I will be so proud when she graduates from the program and I am so happy that she is in my life.

Anybody interested in reading other letters from sponsored children, whether Shallon or anybody else, can check the My Compassion Kids web site.  Some of them are wonderful, some are kind of silly, like the one from Leniel, in the Dominican Republic, which read only:  I thank you for all of your letters and gifts.  Do you eat fried chicken?  Continue to pray for me.  I send you a hug.  A man of few words!

The Autumn Leaves

Overnight it is Autumn.

Yesterday we had that beautiful sunny, warm day -- but not too warm -- and this morning I woke up and it is fall.

Overnight the wind has blown small hillocks of leaves onto the ground that crunch when you walk from the house to the car.  There will be a lot of sweeping to be done in the coming days/weeks, as our fruitless mulberry denudes itself slowly.

I haven't noticed a lot of fall color yet, but soon my favorite Chinese pistachio tree, a couple of blocks from our house, should be bursting into a riot of red leaves before it, too, turns brown and loses its leaves.

I think fall is my favorite season.  It would hands down be my favorite if we lived somewhere that gave us the kinds of displays of fall color that are seen on the wallpaper for this month's entries, but I love the departure of the hot weather and the breezes coming in again.  And best of all, when Autumn passes, what arrives is winter with its rainy weather.  While spring is beautiful, it is followed by summer and the hot days again.

I sat in the book store this afternoon and looked toward the open door and saw two chunks of something on the rug.  I thought something had fallen off a shelf and broken (probably because I have no depth perception!) and couldn't remember hearing anything drop.  But when I got up to check, it was two leaves that had blown in from outside.

Peter had left the door open when he went home today and as it was not letting in hot air, as it has for so many weeks, but merely fresh air, I didn't shut it.  There is a tree right outside the door which has already lost a lot of its leaves and each time the wind blew, apparently it was blowing leaves and bits of leaves inside the store.

When I left at the end of the day, it was downright chilly and I was sorry that I hadn't brought some sort of jacket or sweater with me!

Today I had lunch with my friend Kathy in Sacramento and wondered if I'd be able to get back to Davis in time for my shift at Logos at 2.  Worked out perfectly.  I even had time to stop off at home and get Walt to drive me downtown.

Kathy and I bemoaned Obama's performance at the first debate and shared our hopes for a better showing by Biden in this evening's debate.  She and I have lunch together on the third Thursday of each month and agreed that next month we will either be having a celebration (we strongly hope) or be consoling each other.

It was a fairly quiet day at the store, with a couple of highlights, the best of which were two college age girls who came in and were fairly ecstatic about all the things they were finding.  One squealed when she came across a copy of Homer's "The Odyssey" and said that she collects copies of "The Odyssey."  She ended up buying a copy of "The Odyssey," and introduction to Chaucer, and two "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" books!   I loved that.

The other girl positively jumped in delight when she found a copy of Oscar Wild's "The Picture of Dorian Gray." She said that she would have to bring her sister into the store and that they would probably "buy out the store."   It is really very comforting to realize that a love for reading is alive and well among the young people who visit the store!

Another woman came in looking for books about New Orleans and the Appalachian Trail.  We actually didn't have either, but I suggested Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods," which I thought she would enjoy.  I love it when I can give advice on a book or introduce a book to someone.

Susan relieved me a little early so Walt and I could get home in time for the Vice Presidential debate, which I thought was very good.  I think both Republicans and Democrats would feel good about it, though I don't see it changing anybody's mind about anything.  The two sides are so different that it should be a clear choice for people.  But it was good to see Biden looking so strong in the debate.

In the end, Walt and I decided we both wanted to vote for moderator Martha Raddatz!

Taking Kathy Home

The weather had predicted possible rain, but it could not have been a more beautiful day.  The plan was to drive out to Drake's Bay and sprinkle the ashes where we, with Kathy and her sister, had sprinkled her mother's ashes in 2004.

My mother has said time and time again how much she loves driving out to West Marin and the day was perfect, but the road is winding and got a bit long for her.   She was already concerned about taking "the fast way" back home after we had scattered the ashes.  I also wasn't sure how to get to the beach where we had been before (Kathy's sister had directed me then).

We got to Point Reyes (which, I had to laugh, Nigel, our British GPS voice, pronunced "REE-eyes") and started following the signs for "beaches."  The road took us through Inverness, where my grandparents had lived for many years, and Peach and her family had lived for awhile.  A very special place for us.

As we were approaching the actual town of Inverness, we were driving along Tomales Bay and we suddenly all had the same thought...maybe we could scatter Kathy's ashes here.  It had more significance for the family and somehow seemed more personal than trying to find a beach we had no personal connections with.  Not only that, but it was the spot where our grandfather's boat had sat fordecades until it finally disintegrated.  And it was a nice quiet beach.

Plus, it sat within view of "finger mountain."  Or that was what I called it.  My sister called it "fist hill" and Peach called it "the hand."  A hill with ripples in it that look like fingers.   I liked Kathy being near finger mountain.

Before we got to the road to Inverness, though, I had to stop to take a picture of this...uh... structure, I guess you'd call it!

At first I thought the signs on the bottom left and right were to advertise a winery, but it just says "Save the Ocean" and "drink wine."  Don't know who put it up, but I loved it (needless to say!)

We pulled over by the little Inverness store where I remember shopping when I was little and we walked down along the edge of the bay.

One last picture, in the shadow of Finger Mountain.

Then Peach did the honors and we all told Kathy we loved her.

Then it was time for lunch.  We went to a cafe in Point Reyes, where I took this cute picture.

We drove my mother back to her house, I refused to take a nap before we left to go home and Peach and I got on the road again.  She had talked with Bob earlier in the day and learned that his knee was hurting too much so he would not be able to drive down and pick her up, so could I drive her home.  By the time I got her home, and returned to Davis, I figured I had driven nearly 200 miles since 11 a.m. -- 50 miles round trip to West Marin, 80 miles home, 70 miles round trip to Peach's and back again.  All this in a weekend where gas is $4.67 a gallon--and $5.00 in Marin County (where I had to buy gas!)

But we agreed it had been a perfect day, and best of all, my mother was having one of her "good" days!

Kathy's Last Cousins Day

How odd...an entry written on the actual date it is posted!  I am exhausted, having driven just short of the distance to Santa Barbara today, without leaving northern California.  But that story will be for tomorrow's entry.  This one is about Kathy 's last cousin's day.

We had not had a Cousins Day since May and boy were we all needing one!  Also, the weather was not good in May and so while we had planned to sprinkle Kathy's ashes then, we decided to wait until later...we had no idea how much later it would actually be. (Actually Kathy's husband and kids had scattered half of her ashes; we had the other half.)

After our last get together, Peach was called to service helping her sister, Mandy, following a hip replacement surgery and then when Mandy was OK to be on her own, Peach's husband Bob went in for a knee replacement.  The knee replacement has turned out to be significantly more complicated than intended and Peach has been doing the "in sickness" part of her vows 24/7 for the past four months.

They finally decided that Bob was OK to get along without her for a day or so and he was even able to drive her to my house, though I noted that he did not get out of the car, as he usually did.  He looked like he has seen better days.

Peach and I drove to my mother's.  I think we talked nonstop all the way there, and probably for the better part of two days.  We had missed our conversations!

We never quite know what to expect with my mother, how bad her memory is going to be and whether or not she'll be up for a card game or 10.  She had lunch ready for us and we enjoyed our lunch and then she invited us to move to the "soft seats" to talk.  She went into her bedroom for a minute and Peach and I decided she wasn't up for cards, but as she came back in she said "Hey--aren't we going to play cards?"   So we sat down and she said that she wasn't sure she remembered how to play.   Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn't.  This time I think she was conning us.  At our last game, we figured out I had won 3 games, Peach had won 2 games and my mother had also won 3 games.  Other than never remembering which card was wild in each hand (which we all have problems with), she played as well as she ever has, which was nice.

As usual, we played, we talked, we laughed.  When it was time to make cocktails, Peach brought out her $18 bottle of--I kid you not--cucumber flavored vodka.

(It was organic too).  She mixed it with ginger beer and soda water. and served it with cucumber slices and lime.  They liked it better than I did.  I didn't dislike it, but I'm not a big ginger beer fan (which is why I don't like a "dark and stormy," which Jeri, Phil and Walt love to drink).

We brought Kathy out for our last "toast" together a s 4-some and let her sit on the table through dinner.

It was my turn to make the dinner and I had found a weird recipe on the A Year of Slow Cooking web site that sounded in intriguing.

Lemon Jello Chicken3 to 4 pounds chicken parts (I used frozen legs and a few breast halves) 1 (6_ounce) box Lemon Jello powder 3 tablespoons melted butter 1 tablespoon prepared Dijon mustard 1 tablespoon dried minced onion flakes (or one tiny onion, finely diced) Use a 4 to 6 quart slow cooker. I used a 4_quart for this one, and didn't brown the legs beforehand. The color on the chicken you see up above came only from slow_cooking. If you prefer more of a brown color, or more texture, go ahead and brown beforehand. My chicken was frozen solid, too. If you have thawed chicken, shave about 90 minutes off of the cooking time. Place the chicken into your slow cooker. In a small mixing bowl, combine the jello powder, melted butter, Dijon mustard, and onion flakes. Stir together to make a paste. This isn't liquidy at all-- it's sort of a combo between paste and playdough. Smear this onto your chicken the best you can. Cover, and cook on low for 6 to 8 hours. I cooked our chicken on low for exactly 7 hours, then kept it on the warm setting for another 2 hours. Serve with mashed potatoes, or rice pilaf and something green. Sit back and watch your family go nuts.

We all admitted it sounded strange, but we all also agreed it was very tasty!  And there is enough left over for dinner tomorrow night (my mother hates to have us leave a scrap of food behind when we leave).

At the end of the day, it had been a good last time with Kathy and in the morning, we would finally take her home...

The Funeral

We went to a funeral today.  It was for a man I have seen, but don't know that I ever met, someone with whom Walt worked for many years.  He was a young guy--about my age.

It was a funeral mass held at a Catholic church in Sacramento.   It seems the only Masses I attend these days are funeral masses, the last one for our friend Will Connolly in April.  The church for today's funeral was filled, and there was a line out the door of people waiting to get in when we arrived.

If you want a slow ceremony, get an old Irish priest to officiate.   In today's case there were four old Irish priests on the altar, one of whom was so shaky he could not turn the pages of the Bible and had to get help.  Add to that, for music they chose all the slowest hymns they could find and then I swear cut the tempos in half.  "Funereal" definitely describes the pace.

Add to that the brogues of the priests and the muddiness of the microphone/speaker system and it just added to the length.  I was glad I was not the only one who could only understand a word or two of what was said throughout the Mass...and heck, I'm supposed to know the Mass!

Going to a Catholic Mass makes me jealous of protestants.   Catholic church have pews and kneelers but for most of the Mass, the congregation stands.  I don't know why.  I don't remember standing so much when I was growing up.  As we stood, and stood, and stood while the shaky priest tried to turn the pages of his Bible, I realized that sweat was pouring off my body.  I decided that God had seen my black soul and was punishing me for daring to come into his house of worship...or the Devil was trying to make me think evil thoughts (and doing a damn good job of it).

I was determined I would stay standing while all the little old ladies around me were standing, but when the little old ladies (and a couple of little old men) finally sat down, I joined them.

There was no casket, so at the end of the mass, at the point where normally the priest would take the thurible (that's the thing that they put incense in and then clank it against itself to send incense up to the heavens...when we were at Newman Hall and Walt was an altar boy, we always called it the "skoosher") and skoosh incenses over the body inside the casket, all they could do was to skoosh incense over the deceased's portrait to bless his beloved soul, which to my mind was a bit more occult than I had given the Catholic church credit for being -- calling up the spirit of the deceased by skooshing incense over his portrait.  Smacks of Brasilian voodoo.

When it was over, we stood outside and made small talk.  I do not generally do well with Walt's co-workers and their spouses.  I always feel I am out of my element and have little to add to the conversation.  This was particularly true when I got involved in a discussion about the difficulty of finding hired help for housework, a concept so foreign to me I might as well have been in a different country.

We finally joined the line waiting to get into the parish hall for lunch.  We stood for 15 minutes in the sun while the line slowly moved into the building.  

Finally, when the food was in sight (but still another 5-10 minutes away), Walt suggested I go sit down and he would get my lunch for me.  Bless him.   I wasn't going to give in, too proud to give up, but then I saw the one person from his office that I really can talk to and decided I'd grab a seat next to him while it was available.

While waiting for Walt to come with lunch, I was able to sneak photos of two of the people who were the most memorable in the crowd.

	I just loved the curls.  She apparently attended not only college, not only high school, not only grammar school, but kindergarten with the deceased
	...and then there was this guy who definitely won the "Dick Cheney look-alike contest."  He even smirked like our former vice president!

Lunch was good and I had a nice chat with the guy I was sitting next to, which was nice.  Usually I feel like such a dork at these gatherings.

One thing about the deceased.  He was much loved, admired, and revered.  The comments by his friends, colleagues, and family were very heartfelt.   I hadn't wanted to attend this funeral, but in the end, I'm glad that I went.

---

Finally going to COUSINS DAY tomorrow.  If the weather is good (and we can find the ashes, which are stored at my mother's, and she doesn't know where), we will be taking Kathy "home" and scattering her ashes at Drake's Bay the next day, so the next entry is going to be very late.  Don't panic, Ron and Olivia!

Sunday Stealing

First off, if you did not see the debate between Jon Stewart and Bill O'Reilly, I highly recommend it.  No matter what you think about either man, they obviously like and respect each other and disagree on their view of most things.  I love intellectual debates like this!  I actually paid to watch it, but felt I got my $5 worth, and half of that $5 went to charity, so that was a good thing.  But now it's on YouTube and if you get a chance, it's a good hour and a half of stuff that made me wish Presidential debates were held like this!   (Of course they obeyed the moderator about as well as Obama and Romney did!)

41. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Bev, Mom, Grandma and years ago when I was in grammar school, a priest called me Beaver-Lake.

42. WHAT CAR DO YOU DRIVE?
Honda Accord, 199-something

43. BEST DATE YOU'VE EVER BEEN ON? (IF MARRIED, before your present spouse)
Wow...I can't remember back that far.

44. WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
I cried last night at the end of The Miracle Worker

45. LONGEST SHIFT YOU HAVE WORKED AT A JOB? WHAT WAS THE JOB?
I don't think I've ever worked longer than an 8 hour day, though I have worked overtime (voluntarily) many times.

46. FAVORITE MOVIE?
A Star Is Born, Judy Garland version.

47. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SANG IN PUBLIC? WHAT DID YOU SING?
Oh Lord...probably the National Anthem at a baseball game, but that would have been 2 years ago, at least.

48. WHAT WAS YOUR LAST FIGHT ABOUT?
I don't fight.

49. WHAT STUFF DO YOU NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT?
My keys, cell phone (usually, unless I forget), Kindle, camera, wallet, credit cards

50. FAVORITE ITEM OF TECHNOLOGY?
My computer, cell phone is a close second

51. FAVORITE WEB SITE?
Facebook, I guess.

52. DO YOU SMOKE?
Never have, never will.

53. IN YOUR EXPERIENCE, HAVE LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS WORKED?
Never got the chance to try, but obviously long distance friendships don't work.  I've lost several that way.

54. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY?
I think it's fun to read, but I don't believe in it.

55. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON WHO CALLED YOU?
Some telemarketer.  I yelled at him.

56. WHAT WAS THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE YOU RECEIVED?
It was from Jeri and was a picture of the Ragtime program.  She was playing the show.  In response, I sent her a picture of the Miracle Worker program.  I was reviewing the show.  We are people of few words.

57. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?
Sweat pants and an Obama t-shirt from 2008, ready to wear again!

58. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
Autumn.  I love the color, and the best thing about it is that it is followed by Winter.  I like Spring because of the beautiful blossoms, but it only promises to be followed by Summer, my least favorite season.

59. BEST THING ABOUT WINTER?
Rain.

60. DO YOU THINK WTIT IS COOL OR OVERRATED?
Never heard of it.

61. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND?
Seeing a play, reviewing plays.

62. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE?
It's a little late to be making such life decisions when you are about to turn 70!

63. WHAT'S YOUR BIGGEST REGRET?
Not finishing college, not being the kind of cool Mom I wanted to be.

64. ARE YOU SMILING? WHY?
No.  Not smiling at the moment...this is serious business.

65. IF YOU COULD GO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD WHERE WOULD IT BE?
Africa, on a photo safari, or sailing up the inland passage to Alaska.

66. DO YOU PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?
I'm fairly competent on the kazoo.

67. DO YOU WISH YOU COULD SEE ANYONE IN PARTICULAR RIGHT NOW?
Paul.  David.  Gilbert.  Peggy.

68. LAST THING YOU WATCHED ON YOUTUBE?
The Jon Stewart-Bill O'Reilly debate.  And you should too!