My Friend, Luanna Rugh

 

I first met Luanna when she and her family started attending our church in the early ‘80s. She was very shy, and I didn’t get to know her very well at first.

Her husband, Len, was outgoing and friendly, and so was her daughter, Sandra. Lu’s parents also attended the church, and I got to know them, too. Her dad was sweet and quiet—a real gentleman. And her mom was creative. She made beautiful decorations from shells. I have a magnet on my refrigerator she made as well as an ornament on my Christmas tree.

Len was severely wounded in Vietnam, but I learned quickly enough not to call him “handicapped”! Even though he was missing a large part of his brain and was completely paralyzed on his left side, he believed he could do anything. And the longer I was around him, the more I believed it, too.

After a while, we got to know both of them better. I discovered that Lu had a wicked sense of humor. She might have been shy, but when she opened up, her true personality came forth—sometimes with a vengeance. It took several years, however, before she became comfortable enough around me to let it show. I discovered we both loved irreverence, and she always made me laugh.

From the time Len was wounded in 1969, her goal in life became to encourage him to be everything he could be. He was labeled “unretrainable.” She talked him into attending Saddleback College. He eventually graduated from Cal State Fullerton with a degree in Political Science, even though everyone said it was impossible.

Lu and Len loved to travel. After Sandra left home, they bought a 5^th wheel and drove all over the US—including Alaska. Lu did all the driving. They spent time in Hawaii, too, which they both loved. They often stayed in the military hotel in Honolulu and bought timeshares on Maui, which they shared with Sandra and her husband, Steve.

While attending Saddleback, Len began to write a book about his experience in Vietnam. He worked on it for twenty years before he felt it was completed. By this time, Larry and I had joined the same critique group he belonged to (Lagunita Writers). One of our members told Len the book wasn’t finished yet. He’d written all about his experiences in Vietnam, but he hadn’t explained how he had been able to learn to walk and talk and do all the amazing things he’d accomplished. So, after twenty years of working by himself, he invited Lu to help him tell the second part of his story.

When they finally finished, the book was over 1300 pages! His good friend, Larry, told him, “Len, you’ve written the complete book for your family, but now you have to cut it down enough so it will sell.”

Len understood. So, for the next two years, we met with them every Wednesday night, usually at our house. One of us took care of dinner, and then we spent a couple of hours working at the computer cutting the size of the book. We went through it three times, line-by-line, word-by-word, until it was at its final length of 440 pages.

It was published in 2009 as Promises Kept; How One Couple’s Love Survived Vietnam.

Although Lu had written half of the second part of the book, she still told everyone, “I was a biology major. I’m not a writer.” Promises Kept won the 2010 EPIC Award for Nonfiction. It has become hugely popular with veterans’ groups.

While they were working on their book, I started a project with three other friends. It was an anthology about four sisters with a common through-story. However, one of the participants had to drop out because of health issues. We could have made it about three sisters, but the overall outline was for four.

I mentioned it at one of our weekly meetings. The following week, we went down to see Lu and Len at Camp Pendleton where they were spending a week camping. She asked me about the project, and I explained it to her. She asked if she could take part. By the time we left that day, she had outlined her character and the story she wanted to tell.

She was the first one finished with her novella! And hers became my favorite story in the book. Snowflake Secrets was published in 2008, before Len & Lu’s book. From then on, I told her she could no longer say she wasn’t a writer!

This was the first of six anthologies, all set in our fictional town of Aspen Grove Colorado, and Luanna was part of all of them. Seasons of Love came next, followed by Directions of Love, An Aspen Grove Christmas, The Art of Love and …And a Silver Sixpence in Her Shoe. Snowflake Secrets was a 2009 finalist for the Edward Hoffer Award, finalist for the 2008 Dream Realm Award, and a 2009 EPPIE award. Directions of Love won the 2011 EPIC ebook Award for best anthology.

  

 

 

 

I must have finally convinced her that she WAS a writer because she eventually published two more stand-alone novels: Love From the Sea was published in 2016, and Up in Flames published in 2020.

     

 

One thing we shared  in common was a love for everything Disney. We had annual passes, and they got military passes each year. We went with them often. Each time we passed the wheelchair rental, we’d suggest Len rent one.  “Heck no. Those are for people who need them.” Despite his total paralysis, he had learned to walk with a full leg brace (hip to ankle) on his left leg. His left hand was in a sling. He balanced by carrying a cane in his right hand. He’d learned to swing the brace while balancing on his good leg. He couldn’t drive, but he took the bus everywhere. Most of the drivers in Orange County knew him. When we were eating with them in a restaurant, someone would approach and greet him—often a bus driver.

He took part in classes to train physical therapists on how to work with people with his level of paralysis. He called them his “physical torture” classes. But he was proud to have been able to help train others to help people like himself.

He also took part in The Vietnam Head Injury Study. Every few years, he flew back to Washington D.C. for a week of tests and interviews. In later years, Lu went with him. They never could explain how he was able to accomplish so much with as severe an injury as he had sustained. Of course, the real secret was Lu. She knew when to push and when to step back. He never wanted sympathy or help when he didn’t need it, and those of us who spent time with him learned this quickly.

For years, the four of us ate brunch together after church on Sundays. During his last couple of years, Len was in and out of the hospital and rehab. Covid made everything much worse as he was often in quarantine. Lu was at loose ends without him to care for.

He was moved to a nursing home at some distance from their home, and she drove to see him several times a week. After Len died in 2022, Luanna lost much of her interest in life, and we saw her fading. Her memory began to fail, and her zest for life ebbed.

Finally, Sandra moved her into a lovely assisted living facility. She did better there, but she eventually started falling and forgot to take her medications. After yet another stay in the hospital, she was in terrible shape. Once again, Covid quarantines kept us from visiting. When we finally saw her, I was shocked. She could barely communicate, and she looked terrible. I called Sandra about our concerns. She said she couldn’t get any information from the facility and was very frustrated since she lived in Minnesota and Lu was in California.

Shortly thereafter, she moved Lu back to a facility a few minutes from her home. I couldn’t believe the change the next time I spoke with Lu. She was back to her old self! The caregivers at her new place monitored her medications and kept a close eye on her. And she flourished.

She made friends, played Bingo, watched movies, and cheered for the Vikings.

She was terrific for nearly a year. But then, she developed a UTI and was hospitalized. When she finally was well enough to return to her facility, her mental state had reverted to where it was when she left California. And she refused to eat. Being a type-2 diabetic, this contributed greatly to her downhill slide. She was put on hospice for a few days and just seemed to fade away.

I am convinced she is now with her beloved Len, where she has longed to be ever since he died. And I’m sure she is making jokes and laughing. At least, that is how I will remember her.

Friendship

We were each allowed to choose a card with a random word for meditation at church recently. I first picked the word “Weaver.”

“That’s really not me’” was my first response.

The pastor said, “Then pick another.” So, I did. The second was “Friendship.”

However, “weaver” kept haunting me, and I realized how these two words perfectly intersected in my life.

You see, one of my closest friends in grammar school and high school, Marie [Stratton] Cole is a weaver. She taught herself to make pine needle baskets using the ancient techniques of the Native Americans. She collects her own pine needles, dries them, dyes them using the organic dyes, which have been used for hundreds of years. Her creations are in museums and galleries in the Pacific Northwest. I own four of them, and each is a small masterpiece.

I think she sent me the first one, called “Childhood Memories,” for a milestone birthday years ago. This precious gift sits on my desk, where I see it every day. It is about four inches in diameter, and the tiny stitches form a pattern that perfectly illustrates our friendship. The two colors intersect, then separate, then come back together—just like we have. I always think of Marie as close to the natural world. She loved camping and being out in nature. Today she and her husband live in a remote area of Oregon and is content to listen to the birds and be among the trees. In contrast, I’m a bit of a hothouse flower. I don’t like getting my hands dirty! In the two colors, I saw us clearly: Marie in the grounded brown, and me in the beautiful blue. (My house is decorated in this color.)

We were together in high school, sharing many interests. After graduation, we went our separate ways.

Marie was a bridesmaid in our wedding.

Wedding Party: Victoria Hanner, Marie Stratton, Kathleen Murphy, Me, Larry, Virgil Thomas, Patrick Tedford, Jim Tedford

After we both married, we lived close to each other. When Star Trek began on TV, both of our husbands were obsessed. We met every Wednesday night at alternating homes for dinner and to watch the show.

Her husband enlisted in the Air Force, so we were separated yet again. However, he was being stationed in Colorado, where we were living at the time. Their housing wasn’t ready when they arrived, so they and their baby daughter, Maretta, stayed with us and our four-year-old for a short time.

We returned to California, and Marie continued to move around. But she often returned to see her mother. Whenever she was in town, we went to see her. Not only was she one of my closest friends, but her brother, John, was Larry’s best friend through school, so their mother was a fixture in our lives.

Finally, Marie moved to Oregon, and we remained in California.

However, we always stayed in touch, both through email and phone calls, but also through her mother.

In 2014, our class from Alhambra High School celebrated its fiftieth reunion. We asked any class members who created unique items to donate one or two for a silent auction. (We donated several books.)

Marie sent this charming basket, obviously created just for the occasion. It features the school colors and our graduation year. Several people bid on it, but Larry knew how much I loved it. Even though I already had one of Marie’s masterpieces, I was very taken with this one. Unbeknownst to me, he kept an eye on the bidding and outbid everyone else. It is my favorite memento from the event. This one is about four-and-a-half inches tall and four inches in diameter. It sits in a place of honor on the etagere upstairs with other high school memorabilia.

The following year, Larry and I celebrated our fiftieth anniversary. What an amazing surprise to receive a box in the mail from Marie!

Inside was this beauty called “Connecting Links.” This matches the colors in our living room perfectly! It is four-and-a half inches tall and four inches in diameter. It is a perfect metaphor for our relationship.

During one of our visits to her in 2003, Marie’s mother, Millie, told me she had begun to write her memoir of growing up in Alhambra, California. I said when she finished it, I would edit and publish it for her. Her son, John, worked on it with her for several years prior to his death from cancer in 2016. Each time I spoke with her, I asked how it was coming. She always said she was still working on it.

As she aged, her eyesight grew worse and her typing less accurate. She went from typewritten pages to the computer, but she was afraid she would lose her work when she closed the file. So, she learned to rename each chapter with the current date appended as soon as she opened it.

After she turned 100, she decided she was finished. We went to her house, collected all the typewritten pages, and copied all the files onto a flash drive. Then, I had to go through the chapters, combine the ones that went together, and try to decipher what I thought she meant.

Fortunately, her mind was sharp. If I had a question, I called her, and she always had an answer. Where there were holes in the manuscript, I did research and filled them in. Her caregiver and one of my friends read the chapters to her as I finished them, and Millie gave me notes—always thoughtful and interesting.

By 2020, I was nearly finished, but I still had one or two questions. As always, her answers were quick and to the point. Three days later, she passed away at the age of 102.

Despite my promise to publish the book, her daughters decided they just wanted copies for family members, so I sent the files. (Marie’s younger sister, Judi, passed away a couple of years ago. I still would like to have the book published. I know quite a few people who would enjoy it. But as long as they are reluctant, it will remain on my computer.)

To thank Larry and me for completing her mother’s book (Larry created a beautiful cover), Marie sent us this gorgeous piece, “Chaparral Hills.”

Her inspiration was the chaparral-covered hills around Los Angeles. The white pearl plants are reminiscent of the pampas grass readily found in the area. This holds a place of honor in our china closet.

Each time I look at these beautiful works of art, I am reminded of my friend, Marie, and our treasured friendship. So, both words—“Weaver” and “Friendship”—were appropriate and perfect for meditation.

My Sis’s Angel

I first met my “sis” when I was two years old. My family moved into our new house in Alhambra, California two doors away from Kathleen’s family. There were lots of kids in the neighborhood, so we always had playmates. Over the years, Kathleen and I remained good friends. 

Suzanne Van Clief, Diane Graham, Kathleen Murphy, Susie Tabulara, me, Carol Provinse

She was my maid-of-honor when I got married, and I was her matron-of-honor. 

1965 Wedding Kathleen, me, Larry, Virgil Thomas

On June 18, 2020, I received a message from Kathleen’s husband: “After a month-long illness, Kathleen entered eternity early this morning at Huntington Hospital. 75 years 9 months.”

She had been hospitalized after many months of physical difficulties. I got to speak with her a few days before this message. She was upbeat and talked a lot about going home and all the things she intended to do when she got there. She went home, but not to her earthly home.

We shared many interests, but one of them was our love of angels. We both had LOTS of them. Nearly every room in my home has angels in it somewhere. Many rooms have multiples. This is the secretary in the entrance. There are also more in the entry and the living room. One of my guest rooms is full of them.

A couple of these were gifts from my daughter. Most others were from friends. 

Two belonged to dear friends, now deceased.

We promised Kathleen we would spread a few of her ashes in Ireland. We plan to do it soon.

Yesterday, we met her widower to receive the ashes. In addition to those, he brought me some other items that were hers. Among them was an angel. “I know you also collected these and thought you might like to have this one.”

I was delighted to receive it. It now sits in my downstairs guest bath. This one is Baccarat crystal and sits on a lighted base. I love the way it looks, and I will always think of my own angel in Heaven every time I see it. What a thoughtful and precious gift.

 

Celebrating a Life Well-lived

Today we celebrated the life of my longtime friend, Karen Stone.

I met her when her then-fiancé brought her to church (Community Presbyterian in San Juan Capistrano). However, as we talked, I realized that we probably had met years earlier. Growing up, she attended the Monterey Park Methodist Church. My best friend, Kathleen Murphy, also went to that church. It was an active congregation. They presented musical events, luncheons, and plays. Throughout high school, I attended most of them with Kathleen. So did Karen

Eventually, she and Jeff Stone were married and became a part of the large, active couples’ group at the church.

I learned early on that music was very important to both of them. Karen played the marimba, and before long, she began to play for the church talent shows, worship services, and other events, accompanied by Armand Stephanian on the drums.

Jeff also played several instruments, so their shared love of music was a special bond.

For many years, Jeff hosted “The Ragtime Show” on local station KSBR on Sunday nights between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m. Through this interest, he and Karen began to attend the annual ragtime convention, where they made many friends who shared their passion.

Their musical interest didn’t stop there, however. They were members of the Laguna Folkdancers. Karen invited us to join them, but our schedule never seemed to allow us to do so. They also took dance lessons: western, ballroom, etc. We were also invited to join them for this activity.

Both were active in social justice issues. They belonged to a group called Beyond War, along with several others in the congregation. They were instrumental in having a Peace Pole installed at CPC.

Karen’s service today was held at the Neighborhood Congregational Church in Laguna Beach, where she and Jeff became members when they moved to Laguna Hills. As we parked, I noticed a Peace Pole there as well. I smiled to think that either it was there to welcome her and Jeff when they arrived, or they lobbied to have one installed there. In either case, she had found a new home.

But she never completely left CPC. She attended many events there even after she moved her membership.

Karen worked part time in the office at Community Pres in SJC for about eight years, from May of 1983 until about 1991. Virginia Webb and she shared the position until the church hired a fulltime office administrator.

She was always a joy. She worked under Rev. Robert Schwenck. At the time, Sunday bulletins were hand-typed, laid out on large boards, taken to the printer, and proofed. Then volunteers folded them on Friday afternoons. My mother, Vera Mansfield, was one of the volunteers. She and Karen became close friends. For several years, Karen, Darla (the bookkeeper), and Virginia took Mom for lunch on her birthday. Mom loved Karen.

She attended many of the church’s women's retreats at Wylie Woods Presbyterian Conference Center. Even after she and Jeff moved to Laguna Hills and began to attend the Neighborhood Church, she came to every one.

Karen was a terrific photographer. She took photos at each retreat and put them together on a large poster. A couple of weeks after each retreat, the ladies led worship based upon the theme for the weekend. One of Karen’s posters always greeted us on an easel as we entered the sanctuary for the service.

She also mounted her photos on notecards. I purchased some from her and looked forward to receiving a note from her on one in the mail. Karen was a lovely correspondent.

She let us borrow some of her photos for the 100^th anniversary book we created in 2019 for the church (Community Presbyterian Church of San Juan Capistrano: 1919-2019 – 100 years of History). Of course, Karen attended the events of the anniversary weekend. She and Jeff are both featured in the book since Jeff designed and installed the first sound system in the sanctuary.

Until her death, Karen remained a faithful member of the CPC Prayer Chain. She often emailed or called me for more information about a prayer request.

At eleven years old, in 2003, my friend’s daughter was diagnosed with a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy. It only affects children, and it is always fatal, usually within two years. We put Emily on the CPC Prayer Chain. I occasionally sent updates. However, Karen subscribed to Emily’s Caring Bridge site. She called me occasionally—especially when Emily’s condition worsened. Against all odds, Emily lived until 2019 when she was twenty-six! Much longer than anyone had expected. You can read Emily’s story here.

When we received the news that Emily had passed away, Karen called me, and we wept together. Through all those years, Karen prayed faithfully for Emily, just as she did for many others.

Karen was proud of the charity her mother created: Mary Erickson Community Housing. Because of Karen, CPC has supported this organization for years.

Karen was a gentle warrior, fighting for justice. She was kindness personified, but she had strong beliefs and did not hesitate to express them. However, I never heard her raise her voice. She was a good and faithful friend, loving wife, and stepmother to Kathy and Chris. She had a radiant smile and gentle nature. And I am proud to have called her friend. I shall miss her.

WE SHARE A BIRTHDAY―AND MORE

 

Today my dear friend, Marilyn Meredith, shares everything we have in common.

Tomorrow, the 24^th of August, is Lorna’s birthday—and it is also mine. I’ve come to think of her as a close friend, almost as another daughter. We’ve known each other for a long, long time. The majority of time we’ve spent together has been at mystery conferences all over the country, for EPICon we’ve been to Virginia Beach, VA, Las Vegas, NV, Portland, OR two or three times, San Antonio TX three times, and New Orleans. [Possibly others.]

EPICon 2008 in Portland with Marilyn & Hap Meredith

My husband and I also spent a weekend with Lorna and her husband Larry in their beautiful home in Dana Point. While there, we did a book event with them at their church and one in their home to celebrate the launch of Larry and Lorna’s mystery novel.

The more often we’ve been together, the more similarities we’ve noted. We like many of the same things. Of course, we are also different in many ways, but when we’re together it’s like we’ve known each other forever.

For obvious reasons, we haven’t seen each other in person the last couple of years. However, we’ve spent a lot of time together through emails. Lorna convinced me to become self-published, though I knew I couldn’t do it myself. She offered to help—which meant she became my editor and did all the work of publishing my books on Amazon. Her husband, Larry, did the covers—even redesigning the ones for the Rocky Bluff P.D. series, and creating the last few of the Deputy Tempe Crabtree series including the latest, The Trash Harem. The cover is perfect for the story and fits in with the other covers.

The development of The Trash Harem didn’t come easily. Because of the pandemic, I couldn’t meet with my critique group, who have always been my first editors. I reached out to a librarian friend who’d once offered to look for typos in a manuscript. He did and found several errors. When I finally thought it was ready, after going through it several times, I sent it off to Lorna.

She’s a wonder. Not only did she find the usual kinds of errors, she also had questions about some of the plot threads. Changes needed to be made, and I was thankful for her input. More work was done, and another edit by Lorna. Finally, we had a manuscript ready to go.

Making the move to self-publishing was a big step, but also a positive one that wouldn’t have happened without the wonderful help of Lorna and Larry. I thank both of them with my whole heart.

ABOUT THE TRASH HAREM

Deputy Tempe Crabtree has retired from her job in Bear Creek when friends, who once lived in Bear Creek and attended Pastor Hutch’s church, ask her to visit them in Temecula. The husband, Jonathan, is a suspect in what might be a murder case. The retirement community includes many interesting characters, any of whom might have had a better motive than Jonathan. There is also a connection to Earle Stanley Gardner as well as the Pechanga Old Oak. What is a trash harem? You’ll have to read the book to find out.

The Trash Harem is available in ebook and paperback on Amazon.

Marilyn Meredith is the author of over 40 published books including the Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery series, and writing as F. M. Meredith, the Rocky Bluff P.D. series. She’s a member of two chapters of Sisters in Crime and the Public Safety Writers Association.

Webpage: http://fictionforyou.com/

Blog: https://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marilyn.meredith

Yet Another Loss

 Marilyn the Crazy Italian is gone. Actually, she was Sicilian—and proud of it! Through her, I discovered that if Sicilians liked you, you became family. We became a part of her feisty, funny, loving Sicilian family, and we were blessed for it.

 Marilyn and Don Griffin were our neighbors. They had an only child, Donna. We had an only child, Kim. The girls were in the same class in school when Donna infected the whole class with chickenpox.

This is about how Marilyn looked when we first met.

When we met, Marilyn and I instantly bonded. I loved her irreverence and sense of humor. I think she liked my pragmatism. I was also a good audience and laughed at all her jokes. And she knew I loved her. We told each other the truth, and it mattered to both of us.

I loved her whole family: her crazy mother, Mary, her Auntie Dolly and Uncle Cliff (they were also neighbors), and Auntie Alice and Uncle Louie (she called him “Uncle Loulie”). We got to know all the cousins and enjoyed them as well. Over time, I also got to know her brother Sammy (Sal), too. He sold me a car once—one I adored.

 Kim and Donna were in the same Brownie troop, so we often saw each other at various meetings. When I took over the leadership, Marilyn became an assistant leader. This continued through several years of Girl Scouts.

 Larry and Don got along well. Both were the same age, very shy, and didn’t like large crowds. They sat at a distance together and observed. I remember one neighborhood Christmas party at our house. Everyone sat around the living room in a circle. Before long, Don and Larry had backed away to the far corner of the dining room where they could watch everything without engaging.

Our families began to spend time together at each other’s houses. About once a week, we ate dinner together and then played games. The guys’ favorite was The Ungame. I think they liked it because it wasn’t competitive. After a while, we abandoned the board and tokens and just answered questions. In this way, we all got to know each other very well.

 In 1980, Don fell at work. Because it happened on the job, his employer insisted he see their workman’s comp doctor. Early the next morning, we received a panicked phone call from Marilyn. Some of Don’s tests indicated something seriously wrong, and all the possibilities were fatal.

 Instead of leaving for work, we rushed to their house where we held each other and cried. Thus began several of the worst months of our lives. Don had leukemia, which at the time was an almost guaranteed death sentence. He underwent a bone marrow transplant at City of Hope, which appeared to be successful. However, as he was recovering, he had a brain aneurism and passed away. He was thirty-six years old.

Marilyn had a difficult time after Don died. Then, women couldn’t get a credit card in their own names. This motivated me to get a loan in my name only. I had to fight the bank to do it, but I got it—and paid it off in half the time.

Two years later, Marilyn married again, this time to Louis LaVella, who had two daughters. Family was always most important to her. She met her new husband through Parents Without Partners.

Unfortunately, Louis had severe heart problems. He died while on a transplant list, and again, Marilyn was alone.

Marilyn and Donna

Several years later, Marilyn reconnected with a former high school boyfriend, Fred Martin. Both were single, and their old spark rekindled. They were very happily married until Fred’s death in 2003.

Marilyn took Fred’s death very hard. She was at loose ends for several years. She finally joined a support group for widows and widowers. There she met Ray Bondeson. I remember when she called to invite us to their wedding. The big incentive for Larry was the red velvet cheesecake wedding cake!

Marilyn and I remained in touch through Facebook and occasional phone calls. We always talked about getting together, but we didn’t manage to do so. She called several weeks ago, and we spoke for about an hour, sharing memories of our mothers and families and our kids. She was very proud of all her kids and grandkids—including the step ones. She mentioned she was in the hospital, but for as long as I’d known her, she always had one or another physical issue. Hospitalization wasn’t unusual for her, and I didn’t think too much about it.

Her stepdaughter posted the news of her passing on Facebook. I am heartbroken to realize the phone will never ring again and I will never hear her smoky voice and hearty laugh at the other end.

Rest in peace, my friend. I’ll never forget you.

50th Anniversary - Kathleen’s Thoughts 9/5/2015

I recently went through the photos of our 50th anniversary and created a video of the celebration and party. (September 5, 2015. Most photos by Heather Taylor) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeuEBcKPNXg 

I also found the audio recording of the ceremony. I have now transcribed each of our speeches. I'll share the last one with you next week.

My dearest friend, Kathleen Murphy Stewart, was my maid-of-honor when we were married in September of 1965. She loathed speaking in public, but she made an exception for the occasion of the celebration of our 50^th anniversary. Her husband said she practiced for two days ahead of the ceremony. She did a good job. It was wonderful hearing her voice again when we listened to the recording. We lost her a few weeks ago, and I miss her.

Chapter 1

There is a thief among us. This thief has stolen from each of us, all of us, has stolen the same thing, the same exact amount from each of us. But this thief is known to all of us, and all too frequently, never missing a visit and never missing an opportunity to steal.

No, this is not one of Lorna and Larry’s novels. As true yesterday, today, and tomorrow, the name of that thief is time. Time steals from all of us. Time steals many things, but it can never steal the most important things. Time cannot steal our friendships. Time cannot steal our memories, locked in our hearts.

Try as it might, time leaves friendship and memories untouched because these alone rest in our hearts and stay with us, despite the ravages of time.

Lorna and I have been friends for three-score-and-seven years. We share our friendship and many memories, and the thief cannot break in and steal them from us. Our shared memories stand as the foundation of our relationship.

Chapter 2

There was blood. The blood will flow. The blood was shed. The blood will incriminate. The blood will not be washed away. Perry Mason can’t make blood disappear. Columbo will find it. Sherlock Holmes will deduce it. Sam Spade will slip on it. But the blood will not be stolen from the thief of time.

This is not another novel in progress, believe me. But Lorna and I were the best of the best of friends, living two houses apart growing up from before kindergarten and into college.

One time, we really did draw blood. We obtained a sewing needle and stuck ourselves. We mixed our blood. At once we were thrilled because we became blood sisters. True sisters at last. We’d always been sisters in our hearts, but now, we were truly sisters.

Back: Eileen, Karen, Dennis, Kathy, Lorna, Suzanne, David, Diane, Kathleen

Front: Ron, Jan, John

Chapter 3

Lorna and I were together through all seasons. We did what best friends do: we rode bikes, roller-skated, played Monopoly, and had a good time all year ‘round. Especially here in California where the weather is so nice.

Chapter 4

The eternal triangle was based on many stories, was written about in many books, and was the basis of many movies. Lorna, Larry, and I were sort of a triangle. But not the one you think.

Larry and I went from kindergarten through high school together. At our high school graduation, Larry comforted me by holding my hand as I tearfully wished those days would not end.

More recently, he kept my chair from sliding down the slope at my mother’s graveside service.

Chapter 5

You’ve already heard how I got them got together at the football game.

A half century ago, I was their maid of honor. After the wedding, I used all my athletic skills and jumped as high as I could for the bridal bouquet. I was pretty athletic, but I still missed it. But perhaps I caught Lorna and Larry’s wishes for me because just two weeks later, I was engaged. And the next year, I was married with Lorna serving as my matron-of honor.

Sherry Ellen Van Clief (Cowell), Patty Hair, Claudia Sue McGee (Gates), Kathleen, Lorna

My husband is here, and we just celebrated our forty-ninth. Our fiftieth is coming up. Thank the Lord.

To bring these remarks to a close and bring you up to date, I must relate that during most of my life, I have been only an occasional reader. I read their first effort, 31 Months in Japan. But then I read The Memory Keeper, and now I have read all of their published books. This activity has made me a voracious reader. I have read more in this last year than I did in previous years. My Kindle, which is packed with books, is never far from me.

So, now I give thanks, not only for the friendship and memories of my true sis, Lorna, and longtime and all-around buddy, Larry, but their gift of adding the value of dimension to my life.

September 5, 2015 Bill, Larry, Kathleen, Lorna