My Friend, Bernie Schwenck

How do you summarize a friendship of over fifty years? I have been wrestling with this for a couple of weeks. I still can’t figure it out, so I’ll start at the beginning.

We met Bernie when my mother-in-love bribed us to attending church with her. We had stopped going to church several years before. We had lived out of the state, and when we returned, our previous church was gone.

In the interim, Larry’s folks had purchased a mobile home in Dana Point. When we came back to California, we began to spend all our weekends there with them.

Mother’s birthday was May 6. A week or so before, she announced, ”All I want for my birthday and Mother’s Day is for my family to go to church with me.” So, we went.

That first week, we discovered that the pastor was a surfer. It was enough to get Larry to go back. The next time we went, the pastor’s wife greeted us by name! I later discovered she’d had the ability to really see and remember people from the time she was young. She never forgot a name. This was Bernie.

She was far from the stereotypical pastor’s wife. She didn’t play the piano or teach Sunday school classes. She sang in the choir, participated in Bible studies, and took part in women’s activities. She attended all the women’s retreats and contributed wisdom to all of them.

Schwenck family 1972

She didn’t look like a stereotypical pastor’s wife, either. Her long hair hung to her waist. She wore short skirts and knee boots—or whatever was comfortable. Since this was a “beach church,” people accepted her as she was, and she did the same. She always seemed to see the best in people.

The door to their house was never locked. Their friends and their children’s friends knew they could walk in at any time—and they did. Bernie’s only request was that if folks showed up and she was busy, they could either talk to her while she continued or they could help. And if she was watching a sporting event, guests were expected to join her. (They could cheer for the opposition, but she would cheer louder for UCLA or the Dodgers. And she would yell at the referees if she thought they made a bad call.)

Bernie had worked as a PE teacher and coached the cheerleading squad in New Jersey while Bob was attending Princeton Seminary. She had a real passion for sports, having been a cheerleader in high school and college. She never missed a game or sporting event for either of her children or her grandchildren.

Larry and Bob and our friend Diana Gardner (nicknamed “Gidget”) formed the Community Presbyterian Surf Team. They had great times surfing together, and Bob became Larry’s best friend.

After the Schwencks’ first trip to Hawaii, they became as hooked on the islands as we were. By this time, we had gone quite a few times and had visited all the islands (except Niihau). The four of us began to vacation together. In time, we traveled all over the world, and we always enjoyed spending time together.

We usually followed the same pattern. We would start planning a trip several months in advance when we discussed the details. Since I am somewhat of a control freak (an understatement), I usually made the arrangements for flights and hotels, etc. (unless they had miles or credit they could use to book their own). In our first meeting, however, each of us chose one thing to do on the upcoming trip. I usually selected something adventurous, like taking the helicopter flight over Kauai or visiting the leper colony on Molokai. Larry’s choice always involved surfing. Bob usually picked something fun, like bike riding down Mt. Haleakala on Maui. Bernie, however, always wanted to do the same thing: paddling the outriggers on Waikiki. She said, “This is the only place on earth where you can do this.” And she loved it.

Bernie 3rd from left

We all liked “funky” places to stay, and we always tried to save money. However, we found some incredible places where we returned on future trips. Fortunately, we had quite a few friends who lived in the islands, so when we were there, we tried to visit them. I have terrific memories of special adventures with dear friends.

Bernie always went along with whatever craziness I planned. She’d say, “I just want to go along and have fun.” The only other thing she wanted to do in Hawaii was spend time sunning on the beach. Because I am far too fair to spend much time in the sun, I either went shopping, or swam laps in the hotel pool, or read a book.

On one memorable trip in 1990, we were joined by our friends Don and Karen Seapy. Don always said it was his very favorite vacation. The highlight was the glider flight over Dillingham Airfield.

l-r: Larry, Bob, Bernie, Don, Lorna, Karen

When Bob did an exchange pulpit in Scotland, we stayed with him and Bernie and spent several days with them before we visited with my family and did a bit of sightseeing. When he did the same thing in New Zealand, we went to visit before exploring the country on our own. In both places, we met lovely people from his guest congregations, some of whom we are still in touch with.

We also traveled to places in the US together, and many of those trips resulted in great memories—like the Rainbow Motel, the very worst place we ever stayed. (Bob picked it.) Even the not-so-great experiences became shared legends and the sources of much laughter.

We visited Italy, Ireland, Australia, France, and other spots in the world with them. We never failed to enjoy our travels.

Through the years, Bernie and I cried together and laughed together and shared lots of love. We lost friends and loved ones and grieved together. We comforted each other and knew we could count on each other.

But, who do I count on now?

Bernie passed away on May 23 after a battle with Parkinson’s and a couple of strokes. It’s hard to believe that her vibrant spirit and contagious laugh and smile won’t be there for us anymore. There are so many things I will miss: hugs, and wisdom, shared silences and shared laughs, moments when no words are necessary, and moments of understanding.

I visited with her each of the three days before she passed and was able to tell her it was okay to let go. I assured her that Larry and I would be there for Bob and her family, and they would be okay because she helped to make them the strong, loving people they are. I prayed with her and told her I loved her. I assured her that I was certain her daughter Erin would be waiting along with her mother and other friends and family. And I assured her God would greet her with: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” I truly believe this.

But my dear friend left a huge hole in my life and that of the others who loved her.

After she passed, I did what I do. I helped Bob write her obituary and then created her obituary website: bit.ly/459dNMl

I also spoke at her memorial service and created the video: https://youtu.be/cSJoF6a4nfM

But these small things just can’t begin to capture who she was and what she meant to me and to those who loved her. I shall miss her for the rest of my life.

…And Still More

 Since May, eight of our friends have passed away besides Brooke Bailey, about whom I wrote about in May. (She died on the fifteenth.)

…And they just keep coming…

Bob Wille

Bob Wille

Sherry Derr-Wille and Bob

Bob was the husband of one of my writing partners. They had been married for just short of 60 years. He died on May 10.

Lynette Christy

Lynette

On June 26, we finally located her younger brother just to discovered she had died about six months ago. We’ve looked for her off and on for years. He told us she had married and moved to Ecuador—quite likely the reason we hadn’t been able to reach her. Larry and I and his best friend and Lynette double dated for a couple of years. Larry’s friend passed away in 2008. We had hoped to share this video of when we were all together with her. We sent it to her brother to show her son.  https://youtu.be/uKh4mhEqStM

Teri Atkinson

Teri

She was related to our great-niece, Savannah. Her mother died when she was eleven, and her grandmother died ten days later. Terri was like a surrogate grandmother to Savannah and a lovely lady. We shall miss her.  https://tinyurl.com/4vkkwh9m

Shaun Corrales

Shaun

Shaun was my cousin, Eileen’s oldest child and her only son. He passed away on May 22. He was only 55 years old. https://www.echovita.com/us/obituaries/ca/templeton/shaun-luis-corrales-19855537

Bernice Smith Schwenck

Bernie

Bernie passed away on May 23. I will write more about her separately.

Nelloise Blue

Nell

Nell passed away on June 27. She had been a member of our church for many, many years and was a loving and sweet friend to many of us.

Wendy Jenkins

Wendy

Wendy was a longtime friend and church member. She passed away today, July 10. She had an infectious smile and a wonderful sense of humor. (She always accused me of dying my hair!) She took a bad fall a couple of weeks ago. We visited her in the nursing home, and she was anxious to get back home. She did return, but then had a series of strokes. I shall miss her very much.

 

Far too many in a short time.

Remembering Aunt Evie

 

Aunt Evie was my favorite relative on my mother’s side of the family. She was young and fun, and I loved her dearly.

Born Evelyn Ella Higginson Methven on August 28, 1923, she was the youngest of three girls. Aunt Muriel and my mother, Vera, were raised as good Victorian children—seen, but not heard. Evelyn was seven years younger than Muriel and six years younger than my mother. She belonged to a different generation.

Mom said they all spoiled her. She and Muriel treated her like their very own living baby doll. And she was “cute as a button.” She had a heart-shaped face and big eyes, and charmed everyone.

She was also an independent spirit. She took part in sports and had lots of friends.

When she was about five, the family moved from their home in East Los Angeles to a new house in West Hollywood, then a part of Beverly Hills. At the time, many young people who would later become film and TV stars also lived nearby, and Evelyn new quite a few of them.

Down the street lived the George family. One member of the family was of particular interest to Evelyn: Frank, the third of four sons. They dated throughout high school. Grandma always said she didn’t need to guess where Evelyn was. All she had to do was look down the street. Usually, Evelyn was draped over the front fender of a car looking down into the engine compartment while Frank was working underneath. He was crazy about cars. And they loved to dance!

Mom described how they would come home from a dance and Evelyn’s chin was raw from rubbing on Frank’s suit jacket. They danced the jitterbug and all the other popular dances of the day. He lifted her up and flipped her over his shoulder and then pulled her through his legs.

They were engaged the evening of my mother and father’s wedding on October 27, 1942. Frank and Dad were both in the Army at the time.

They were married on August 15, 1943.

She moved with Frank to Washington, DC, where his job was teaching pilots to fly, using the LINC simulator. Following his time in the service, they moved back to West Hollywood, and Frank opened his own garage. It was a lot of responsibility, but he loved working on cars, and did so for the rest of his life.

On December 1, 1949, Evelyn gave birth to twins: Karen Ann and Kathy Lee. By this time, they were living in the “little house,” an ADU behind my grandparents’ home. My family had lived there until I was two years old. By this time, Grandpa had died, so Grandma liked having Frank and Evie nearby.

Evelyn really appreciated the help with the twins as they had many allergies, both of them to different things. Karen was allergic to cow’s milk and had to drink goats’ milk. Not easy to find in those post-war days.

This was also the era when babies were put on feeding schedules. However, the twins were on different schedules: one was every three hours and the other was every four hours. Evelyn was exhausted!

Frank was working very long hours in his business, so they weren’t able to spend much time together. They met with their pastor for counseling, and he suggested they plan a “date night” once a week where they could spend some time away from the children and reconnect. Friday nights became their special time, and they continued this practice for many years.

After my father died, when I was seven, my mother was determined to raise us by herself with no help from anyone. This included family. (My mother had an over-developed sense of pride.)

Evelyn and Frank did what they could to give my brother and me special attention Uncle Frank attended Indian Guide meetings with my brother, and Aunt Evie spent time with me.

Christmas was a challenge. The three sisters agreed to give small gifts only to the kids and to their mother. They set a limit. I think it was about two dollars each at the beginning for our gifts. Later, it may have gone to five. In those days, it was possible to buy toys for that amount.

When I was about ten, we arrived at Grandma’s for Christmas Day. My eye was immediately attracted to a HUGE package. When I checked the tag, it had MY name on it! It was about 3 feet wide, two feet high, and two inches deep. I couldn’t wait until after dinner when we could finally open our gifts!

Inside was a Betty Crocker Junior Baking kit! It held miniature cake pans, cookie cutters, a mixing bowl, spoon, measuring spoons, cookie sheet, plus several mixes for cookies, cakes, and icing. I heard my mother scold Evelyn about exceeding the limit, and my aunt told her she had found it on sale. I knew it was a lie, and so did Mom, but there was nothing she could do about it.

I felt so loved, not because of the size of the gift or because Aunt Evie had dared to stand up to my mother, but more because she understood who I was and knew this would be the perfect gift for me. I baked all the mixes, but I kept the cooking items and used them for years. I still had them when I my own daughter was born, and she and I played with them. I think she may still have them!

In the early 1950s, Evelyn and Frank moved to a new house in Monterey Park, California, just a couple of miles from our house in Alhambra. We spent a lot of time with them—especially after they put in a swimming pool.

When I was about twelve, I began babysitting for Aunt Evie and Uncle Frank. Because I knew so many of their neighbors, I also babysat for their kids.

Eventually, Evie and Frank hired me to sit with the girls for their Friday night “date nights.” Even then, I recognized this as a way to give me a little extra spending money, which my mother could not object to.

Aunt Evie picked me up on Friday afternoon and took me to their house, where she had already prepared dinner for the girls and me. After they left, I fed the girls, and they watched TV until their bedtime, while I cleaned up the kitchen. Then I oversaw their baths and got them into bed.

Then, I had the TV to myself and could watch my favorite TV shows: 77 Sunset Strip and Hawaiian Eye. At home, I rarely got to choose what I wanted to watch, so this was a real treat!

Then, I locked up the house and went to bed in their guest room.

In the morning, Uncle Frank fixed breakfast, usually pancakes. (They were his specialty.) From Aunt Evie, I learned to love them with plain yogurt and fresh fruit. This is still my favorite way to eat them.

It was about this time that my relationship with Aunt Evie changed from aunt and niece to friends. I used to tease her that she was my favorite playmate!

Uncle Frank’s job took him to San Mateo, so they moved there in the early ‘60s. The first Thanksgiving break following their move, my cousin, Eileen and I took the train up to visit them.

Aunt Evie was a phenomenal seamstress. She made all her own clothes and for years, she made all of the girls’ as well. On this particular trip, I took fabric and patterns to make Mom and me dresses. Aunt Evie taught me how to make self-belts, and how to put in invisible zippers. These were two dresses Mom and I both wore until they fell apart, and we loved them.

After Larry and I were married, we went to visit them once or twice each year. Larry was an engineer and was genuinely interested in the details of Frank’s work. He would listen to Frank’s stories and ask appropriate questions. They got along very well. Evie and I frequently left them and went shopping.

Before we arrived, Aunt Evie would find fun, new places to visit with us. We also had some we all enjoyed and visited each trip. Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto in Berkeley was a favorite as was the Alta Mira Hotel in Sausalito for brunch. We especially loved Allied Arts Guild in Menlo Park. They had a wonderful restaurant and lots of little shops. I often bought Christmas gifts there. When Evie was a docent at Filoli, we visited several times. Once she gave us a behind-the-scenes private tour.

We also went into the city (San Francisco) to sightsee, shop, and play. We spent time at Pier 39 and Ghiradelli Square, and Evie often found fun new places to shop for bargains.

In 2011, Aunt Evie had a stroke. A couple of months later, we went to see her. I was amazed at how she managed. She had gotten along well with her physical therapy. The only real aftereffect of the stroke was her issue with speech. She was sharp as ever and knew what she wanted to say, but she got frustrated at not being able to get the words out.

Their daughter, Karen, was concerned about her folks living in their big house with many steps as they got older and began to have some physical challenges She decided to ask them to move in with her so she could care for them. Before this could happen, however, Uncle Frank was hospitalized. He passed away on January 4, 2017. They had been married for 73 years.

Since the moving plans were already in place, Evelyn moved into Karen’s house. The twins cleaned out the family home (a daunting task!) and rented it. Evelyn and Frank had purchased two other homes when they first moved to the Bay Area, and those provided rental income for their retirement.

A couple of years later, Karen’s daughter and son-in-law moved to Reno. Property was reasonable, so Karen sold her home in California and moved to Reno, Nevada. Kathy was still working and living in California, but she planned to follow her sister when she and her husband retired. They visited often.

In 2023, Aunt Evie turned 100 years old. Karen and Kathy threw her a great party to celebrate. Most of the family attended, as well as many of her friends from California. She had a wonderful time and even got out on the dance floor.

Kathy and her husband, Jay, moved to the Reno area not long afterward, so she was able to spend more time with her mother.

On November 5, 2024, Aunt Evie died after a short hospitalization.

I am very grateful to Karen for her dedication and care during Aunt Evie’s last few years. She was able to provide her a marvelous quality of life, and Aunt Evie truly enjoyed herself.

We were able to see her in June of 2024, and spent a couple of days with her. We shared memories of her early life, and she laughed and we shared pictures. I loved her for my entire life, and I am grateful for all the wonderful cherish memories of her.

Here is the link to a video I put together in her memory: https://youtu.be/FFcOc25IDvg

THE ADVENTURE BEGINS

6:00 a.m. March 25, 2024

The alarm went off, but we were already awake and ready to get going. We had been planning this trip for months.

In 2021, the 20^th anniversary of the opening of Universal Studios Japan, we were unable to return to Japan for a team reunion because of Covid. For two years, we talked about getting together for a delayed reunion, but for one reason or another, it didn’t happen.

However, several of our Japanese coworkers realized the following:

1.     The 25^th anniversary would not be until 2026.

2.     We are all getting older.

3.     Some of our members were no longer able to travel.

4.     We had already lost too many team members.

5.     We missed each other!

So, they proposed holding a construction team reunion in Osaka on March 31 of 2024. It sounded like a great idea to us! We had been planning this trip for months.

We talked to Julie, our travel agent at AAA, about this as soon as the date was set. Flights were expensive, and not many seats were available, even months ahead. Those that remained were very expensive. However, she found us a direct flight from LAX to Kansai at a good rate—on JAL, one of the better airlines. We booked the seats.

Since Covid, no shuttles come as far south as our house from LAX. We loathe driving down there. We would have had to leave a car while we were gone, and only the outer lots are reasonable enough anyway.

Julie found a company to provide door-to-door service. Not inexpensive, but well worth the cost. We had used them for our trip to Europe in 2022 and were quite pleased.

Our Japanese team members had arranged for a special rate for rooms at the same hotel where our party would be held, but by the time I inquired, only single rooms were available. (No queen or king beds. Just twins, anyway.) So, I did some research and discovered we could get a double room with a king bed at the same hotel where we had stayed in 2011 when we had returned for the ten-year anniversary.

This hotel is right outside the park entrance and adjacent to City Walk. Not cheap, but very lovely. We booked it.

We had spent the previous week packing and washing and putting together omiyage (the gifts expected in Japan). We would be seeing friends as well as at least one of our Japanese “daughters.” And, of course, we’d be seeing some of our close work friends. Omiyage is always a challenge, but I felt I had found some good things.

Now, it was time to get the show on the road!

We were ready to be picked up at 9:00 a.m., and our driver was right on time.

The trip to the airport was surprisingly uneventful, and we arrived about three-and-a-half hours before our plane was to depart.

No hiccups in checking in or getting to our gate.

We had split a protein drink about 6:30, so by eleven o’clock or so, we were hungry. I took a walk and located a little bakery stand. We had a chocolate croissant each and a coke zero to share. (Yes, I know…)

Boarding was handled efficiently, and we took off as scheduled: 2:15 p.m.

In the air, we settled in for our twelve-and-a-half-hour flight.

We had bought along our noise-cancelling headphones, as usual. I had my iPod with me so I could zone out to my favorite music. I had hoped to get a little sleep, but I was not successful.

As soon as we were under way, I checked out the entertainment choices—quite extensive with lots of movies available.

Then, I looked at the music choices, and I found this:

Thirteen Disney songs, many from more recent films. I pointed it out to Larry, and he began to listen as well. As we headed west, he took my hand, and I had a big grin on my face. I was in a very happy place.

We were on our way back to Japan—probably for the last time—and we were ready to be there.

Remembering Kae

 

Kae Komiyama came into our lives as part of a homestay. In prior years, we had hosted five other young ladies from Japan and one from Spain for this six-to-eight-week English-intensive program. Our close friend, Terri, was the coordinator and teacher. Students were housed in individual homes and became part of their families for the time of their stay. In our case, they have remained part of our family.

For this group, our student was Fumiko. Our daughter, Kim, who lived about five blocks away at the time, hosted Ikue. And her neighbors, Ceil and Keith, hosted Kae. I said we got three for the price of one in this group because they spent a great deal of time together—often at our house.

My mother was living with us at the time, and she often provided transportation for the girls. She couldn’t remember their Japanese names, so she identified them by their personal characteristics: Fumiko was “the funny one,” because of her ready sense of humor. Ikue was “the little one,” because she was short like our daughter, Kim. Kae was “the pretty one” because she was beautiful. Mom adored them all.

L-R: Kim, Kae, Ikue, Fumiko, me

One evening, they fixed dinner for all of their host families. Another evening, they put on a fashion show. Kae and Fumiko wore my formal clothing, and Ikue wore Kim’s. Kae’s host mother did their hair and makeup. Such fun memories!

Ikue, Kae, Fumiko

Being silly with Dad: Fumiko, Kae, Ikue with Larry

It was hard to say goodbye to this group, but we hoped we would see them again when we moved to Japan the following August.

Saying Goodbye: Kae, me, Ikue, Fumiko

In April of 1999, Kim and Mom came to visit us in Japan. We would spend a total of 31 months there building the Universal Studios Japan theme park. While they were there, we celebrated Larry’s birthday, and Kae and her then-boyfriend (and future husband), Toshi, were in attendance.

Kae, Toshi, Kim

Larry blowing out his candles

During our time in Japan, they visited about once a month. They arrived with no agenda except to be with us. Although we saw all but one of our Japanese daughters while we lived there, we saw Kae and Toshi the most.

We returned to California in the spring of 2001. Toshi had a job which required him to come to the US a couple of times a year on business. He always tried to extend his trips so he could spend a few days with us. He sometimes brought Kae with him.

One day in late October of 2003, we received a message from them. They had been married in Japan. Like many other countries in the world, they went to the city hall, filled out the paperwork, and left officially married. The wedding, however, was a separate occasion.

“Mom, we want to have our wedding in Orange County. We will arrive on December 28.”

They wanted an American wedding. What the heck was that?

We had a few questions.

Church or at the park where Larry’s brother had been married? Church. (When our kids stayed with us, they attended church with us on Sundays, despite the fact that the Japanese don’t really practice any religion.)

The pastor was Larry’s best friend, and they had met him several times before. They wanted him to marry them. Religious or secular ceremony? Religious.

They didn’t need a license since they were already married, but they insisted. They wanted one stating that they were married in Orange County. Toshi had already done his homework and found that he could complete all the paperwork online and pick up the license in Santa Ana. They went straight from the airport to the city hall and picked it up.

Kae’s brother was coming with them and he would be Toshi’s best man. Kim would be Kae’s maid of honor. I mentioned that here, it was traditional for the father of the bride to walk her down the aisle. “Do you think Dad would do it?”

Silly question. Of course, he would. But he no longer owned a suit. When he left the engineering company where he’d worked for over 30 years, he donated all of his suits. We had to rush out and get a 3-day suit so he could be the father of the bride. (Kae’s father had died when she was quite young. I think I identified with her because I had lost mine at a young age, too.)

The wedding came off without a hitch, and it was beautiful.

Mom, Kae, Toshi, Dad

On our anniversary, September 4 of 2010, our phone rang at about 3:00 a.m. Toshi could barely speak because he was so upset. “Kae collapsed. She may not make it.”

“We’ll put her on the church prayer chain, and we will pray for her, too.”

Of course, I went to pieces as soon as we hung up.

She’d had an aneurism. The neurosurgeon who treated her (the best one in all of Japan) later told Toshi he would have given her less than 5% chance of survival. However, Toshi posted a picture on her Caring Bridge site on her birthday, October 16, of her jumping on her bed. Her doctor could not explain how she had recovered with only slight impairment. He called it a miracle.

Of course, I was worried about her until the following March when we went back to Japan for the 10^th anniversary of the opening of USJ. Kae and Toshi came down to Osaka and spent several days with us. It felt so good to hug Kae and tell her how much we loved her. Even more important, we got to see how well she was.

A couple of years after her aneurism, Kae attended culinary school at Cordon Bleu in Tokyo. With a lot of help from Toshi, she graduated. Quite an accomplishment!

In 2015 when they next visited, she brought her chef’s coat and toque and cooked a gorgeous four-course dinner for us and four other couples. Magnificent!

Chef Kae and Ruth

She wouldn’t have been able to handle the fast-paced schedule in a restaurant, but she started her own cooking school at home. She taught private lessons to small groups of women and thoroughly enjoyed it.

They continued to visit often, and we kept in touch through email, text, and Facebook.

Then in April of last year, when she was supposed to be starting a college course toward her MBA, Toshi sent me a message: “Kae might have pancreatic cancer.”

Unfortunately, she did, and Toshi fought to get her the treatment she required. I assured him I had two prayer chains praying for her with some of the same people who had prayed for her before.

She underwent surgery and chemotherapy, and more experimental treatment Toshi researched. He wanted to bring her to see us, but her doctor would not clear her for plane travel following surgery to place a drain.

Meanwhile, Toshi’s father died, so he had his hands full dealing with that and caring for Kae.

She was finally cleared to fly, and he brought her on September 29 for ten days. She still had a drain in place.

After we returned from the airport, she came in the front door, looked around, smiled at me, and said, ”Mom, I’m home.”

This both touched me and broke my heart because I knew more than anywhere else in the world, this truly was her home, and we truly were her family.

They were joined a couple of days later by her best friend from high school, Ayumi.

This was Kae’s “bucket list” trip. She had about six or seven items she wanted to do while she was here. And she did all of them and more, including a final trip to Disneyland.

She looked much better by the time they left. And she was happy.

Kae with wig at the church where they were married

A couple of weeks later, I received a message from Toshi. They had been to see her doctor, and he told them she probably had only four to six weeks left. His last line, however, really broke my heart: I’m sorry. Mom. I couldn’t save her.

On the morning of December 20 at about 10:00 a.m. our time, Toshi messaged me: Kae loses consciousness…hope she comes back. I began to pray for both of them and continued throughout the morning.

We went to Larry’s brother’s house for lunch to deliver his family’s Christmas presents. I had the ringer turned off on my phone, but Larry’s was on. He had an incoming call. “I don’t recognize this number.”

I did. “I know the country code. It’s Toshi.”

“She’s gone.”

I had been thinking about what would happen afterward and suggested he might think about bringing some or all of her ashes here to spread in the ocean off Dana Point, her true home.

“I have a written note from her. This is what she wants.”

So, he will bring her back this spring and we will take her out to sea after a small memorial service at the church where they were married and many people prayed for her, both when she had her aneurism and this past year. She’ll be with Grandma, who truly was the only grandparent she had.

We will love her always. She was truly our daughter.

STUMPY THE SNOWMAN

 

On Thursday morning, Larry went out to bring in the last trash can and found this on the porch.

It came with a note:

Mr. and Mrs. Collins,

This is Stumpy The Snowman. He was turned from a piece of wood that we removed when the lift was installed. (The grain looked like redwood, but it may be something else.) The body and hat are one piece, the limbs were taken from a neighbor’s bush, and the pipe was cut from chopsticks.

Enjoy!

Mark

We were fortunate to have had this talented craftsman and excellent woodworker contribute to the construction/installation of our lift. We got to know him and realized he was as much of a perfectionist as I am.

This little guy was a complete bonus surprise.

When I first saw him, I thought about the snowman decoration I grew up with. Ours was made of Styrofoam balls and toothpicks. I know Mom didn’t buy it, but I think she attended a luncheon and won the centerpiece.

My little brother named ours “Frosty.” Not too original, but it worked.

Frosty came out every year and was a mainstay of our holiday decorations.

When Mom sold the house, my brother took all the family decorations. Each year, he brought out everything, including Frosty.

When my brother died in 2020, we cleaned out his place. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any of my family’s decorations. I assume they were broken or fell apart over the years.

This little reminder of Frosty brought back sweet memories of childhood holidays.

Stumpy will now become a part of our future holidays, just like Frosty did in my childhood family. And he will be a reminder of Mark and his talent. I can’t thank him enough for this sweet gift.

 

GETTING A LIFT

 With all my physical issues this past year, I became more aware of how difficult it might become living in a house with two stories. Larry had surgery this year, too, and he realized the challenge our stairs could pose as we get older. We discussed downsizing to a single-story house. We’ve even begun to dispose of some of our “stuff.” (Not a bad idea altogether.)

However, we have already made a lot of improvements to this house consistent with the way we live.

Larry started researching the alternatives to allow us to stay here, even with the stairs.

For several reasons, we eliminated the option of a chair lift. They take up quite a bit of room on the steps and partially compromise the treads. Also, our stairs have a 90-degree turn in them, and it would pose a challenge.

He finally located a small one-person lift—like an elevator but smaller. He made an appointment for the salesperson to come out to the house to see if it would work.

The engineer (Larry, of course) had picked out a location  he thought might work, but he was afraid the unit would be too large.

However, the representative from the company (Stiltz) suggested coming to the house to check. We agreed.

Ryan arrived with a neat app on his phone. He could point it at a spot, and it would tell him if there were room to install the equipment.

He found one location in the living room going up to our guest room. Uh…no. Then he found another from our dining room to our office. Nope to that one, too. He finally checked the area Larry had selected—and it not only would work, but it would fit perfectly. And we wouldn’t need to cut a hole in the ceiling.

Last Monday morning at 8:00 a.m., Mark arrived to begin the installation. By early afternoon, our hall was completely draped in plastic, heavy tarps were secured to the stairs, and the floors were covered in cardboard. It looked like we were going setting up for a haunted house!

The first item was to cut out a section of the 2^nd floor handrail for access to the upper hallway from the lift.

I didn’t realize the pieces of the section of handrail would be used to build the external gate—and that it would match the existing handrail.

Then came days of drilling and hammering and sanding to construct all the other parts necessary for the installation, including the electrical work. The dust and dirt were confined to the hallway because of the plastic installed there.

At last, the unit itself and accessories arrived.

First, the supports were brought in and installed.

Finally, on Saturday, after six long days, the installation was completed, and the lift was ready to be used.

The lift sits in the curve of the stairs. It works very simply and holds only one person at a time. But it really makes living with the stairs easier!

I think we are going to be very happy with this solution.