Sandie Memorial

I talked to Sandie's Sister today ... the one who shares Power of Attorney with me, as we work to resolve all of the mundane issues related to Sandies estate, will, and wishes.

Sandie has told her sister that there will be no funeral, no memorial service, no "Remembrance Ceremony" or "Celebration of Life".

I'm not certain that this is the best possible decision, but it is not mine to make.

Those who remain behind -- friends and relatives of the deceased -- have been assured that funerals are for the friends and family, so they can find "closure". And perhaps it also serves the purpose of allowing people to eulogize a loved one, but that's just a guess.

Nobody knows what Sandie was thinking when she made this decision, but I have an idea about that.

Last Christmas ... December 26, 2009, I attended a memorial service for Sherry Orpwood, a friend and a member of the local IPSC community. Sherrie had been fighting cancer for a year, with various ups and down, and finally lost her long fight. Sherrie had been very helpful when Sandie was first diagnosed with Cancer, and gave Sandie suggestions on how to deal with the various road-bumps of chemotherapy (which we later discovered can not be made any easier ... it's all bad.)

When I went to the service, I discovered that it was all too immediate, and too personal for me to handle. Her husband (Loren, whose name I suspect I consistently manage to misspell) was working to handle his emotions but it was all too raw for him.

As the service continued, I found myself becoming increasingly emotional. At the end of the service, I bolted out of the church, into my car, and spent ten minutes in a supermarket parking lot just trying to find an emotional level which would allow me to drive safely.

When I got back home, I told Sandie how traumatic I found the service. She said nothing at the time, but I suspect this is part of the reason why she decided against a public ceremony. She is still trying to protect "other people", regardless of the cost to herself.

She has always been the most unselfish person I have ever known.

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In the aftermath of my attempt find and notify every person whose life has impinged upon Sandie's life (and she, upon theirs), I have been comforted by the outpouring of dozens upon dozens of letters of regret from those who not only knew her personally, but who knew OF her. She has been the subject of prayers for the past 29 months, and I know that they have helped both her and me.

One of my best memories of Sandie may have been the time a couple of years ago, at an IPSC match at Albany Rifle and Pistol Club, when Sandie was RO'ing a stage at a club match.

Most of us were chatting with each other inside the covered bay when Sandie realized that nobody was "working the stage" after the shooter completed his run.

Her response was to face the squad and shout: "Hey, you guys! Get off your ass and get out here and tape these targets!"

Just in case anyone wonders why I called her "She Who Must Be Obeyed".

Not just everybody gets to be a Legend.

Stumble It!

Sandie

I'm sorry that I have to use a stinking blog to say this.

Sandie Fae Smith died this morning about 6am. She was at home, her sister was there helping to take care of her.

Her passing was not unexpected, but I honestly thought ... well, not this soon.

She was diagnosed with lung cancer on July 7, 2008. Her doctor only gave her six months to live. She visited her doctor last July, just to throw it in his face that she stretched that six months into two years, and she wasn't quitting yet.

I do not want anyone to think that she went gently into that good night. She went kicking and screaming all the way, though perhaps in the last couple of weeks not quite so loudly. The spirit and the flesh, you know how it goes.

She made so many friends while we were going to pistol matches, and this is the only way I know that I can reach most of them. It's undignified, I know, but this is part of where the legend of SWMBO was born, so perhaps it's fitting, after all, that this is where it ends.

For those of our friends who live nearby, I'll publish here the details of funeral arrangements whenever they are made.

But to tell you the truth, I don't know how I'm going to get through it. Or through this day, for that matter. I'm a mess now, I'll be a mess then. Somehow, though, I'll be there to say my final goodbye to the finest person I have ever been privileged to love, and whose love I never deserved.

Stumble It!

Thanksgiving

Yesterday, SWMBO and I spent a quiet day together at her home.

Her oldest sister (of four), Vivian, was in town, visiting the second-oldest sister, Bonnie. Vivian had visited SWMBO on Wednesday, and knowing that I like her sisters we intended to invite her to visit again on Turkey Day.

Unfortunately, SWMBO had a very uncomfortable Thanksgiving Day, and so we decided not to invite visitors. In fact, when SWMBO's son called, I asked him to keep the conversation short. She doesn't have much strength left, and would prefer that her friends and family not learn first-hand how debilitated she is this week.

It made me think about those things for which I am grateful.

Last year at this time, SWMBO was in the hospital because the chemotherapy which she was then enduring was hurting her more than helping here. The same situation occurred at Christmas, when she finally decided that she would never again suffer through another round of chemotherapy. She would rather allow the tumor to run its course, and take whatever good days were available to her.

She had originally been diagnosed as having only six months to live. It has been an incredible 29 months so far, and we have been blessed with with all of this time for our love to mature beyond our expectations.

We have an entire coffee table full of medications which have been prescribed, and then left behind when they ceased to be effective in making her more comfortable. FED-EX comes by weekly with new prescriptions ... few are refills, most are new, and she takes pills for nausea, anxiety, pain (ALWAYS with pain) and a variety of maladies which are usually a side-effect of the other medication. She and her many caretakers work together to insure that the medications are taken on schedule. Sometimes the medications must be taken in the middle of the night, which means that a caretaker must always be with her -- not only to insure that the medications are taken, but also to give her such comfort as she needs from moment to moment.

Still, once in a while the old Sandie comes out. Her sense of humor abides, her keen attention to detail insures that we fallible family members will not give her the wrong medication at the wrong time, and she is ever willing to reassure us of her love.

I'm going to stop focusing on Sandie so much, because we are aware that her friends and loved ones are often distraught when I write about her suffering.

Instead, please accept that she is in charge of her own personal care. We .. friends, family, and the Benton County Hospice Center ... understand that she is still the boss, and we give her what she decides she needs. It's not always easy for her, given the powerful medications she takes several times a day. Still, SHE prevails.

And her friends and family are still there for her, even given that she needs personal attention 24 hours a day, every day.

As for me, I treasure every moment I am privileged to be with her. She is more focused on her care than she would prefer, I know, but under the most difficult circumstances one can imagine, she remains ...

She! Who Must Be Obeyed

I thank God that I am privileged to be a part of such a magnificent personality

Stumble It!

SWMBO

Sandie is in a bad way.

She's not strong physically, but she's as strong and as brave as she can be.

Her family is helping me take care of here. I still have to work, so they take care of her during the day and I'm there at nights. Her youngest sister has been spending weekends with her, so I have some time 'off' then. And I appreciate it. I need some time "away", if only so I can regain my strength for the next day.

Sandie doesn't get any days off.

She can't walk unaided. She always feels crappy. The best thing she knows is, however bad she feels, it's the best day of the week.

It's not fair, but it is ... what it is. That's all any of us has, but it's not fair.

She's too good a person, and she doesn't deserve this.

I'll try to keep our friends informed, but I've already re-written this because you don't need to know all the details.

It's just bad. I wish I could be more positive.

Stumble It!

Lest THEY forget ...

Veteran's Day, November 11, 2010

Lest WE forget

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The Congressman and The Colonel

FoxBusiness.com - Why Tuesday Will Be a Blowout

How does 24 years of Military service NOT qualify as having " ... performed any kind of public service"? David Asman takes Congressman Jim Moran (D - Virginia 8th District) to task when the Congressman slams his Veteran soldier opponent.

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Just Words?

Many years ago (around 1978 - 1980) I volunteered to spend two evenings a week as a Teacher's Assistant in an "English as a Second Language" course offered by Portland Community College (in Oregon).

This is a program designed to help Immigrants qualify for the English Proficiency requirement of the American Citizenship program, and also to make it easier for them to find jobs and merge into the American culture.

I did this for two years.

The first year I worked two hours in a classroom, being in fact the only instructor for a group of about twenty students. Over the six month course, I got to know them very well. Most were a group of relatives from Bali. A few were Muslims from the Middle East. All were adults (the eldest was in her 6o's) and every member of that class was willing to work as hard as possible to learn not only 'proper' English, but also Idiomatic English. That is, to feel comfortable with phrases such as "I crossed over the bridge". Think about the many ways words like "cross" and "check" are used in American English, and you will appreciate their ambition and determination.

The second year I worked outside the classroom as a tutor for a young Vietnamese man who was the only member of his family to survive the boat trip from Vietnam. Various tragedies between 1973 and 1976 had taken his parents and siblings from him during the escape and the flight from Communist Vietnam, and he had also spent over a year in various refugee camps before being sponsored to America.

I was able to share many new experiences with this young man (who insisted upon being called "Larry"), among which was a trip to Mount Hood on the day after Thanksgiving Day in 1979, where both Larry and my 18-month-old daughter Jennifer encountered snow for the first time. Larry was ecstatic. He said he had heard of snow, but had no idea how it would feel to be completely surrounded by frozen water as far as he could see. My daughter, on the other hand, reserved judgment. Jennifer now lives in San Diego, so I guess she was less impressed than was Larry.

My work with Larry was ostensibly to help him break bad speech habits, and teach him proper pronunciation of difficult words.

His worst habit, after working one summer in a microchip assembly plant, was to use the expressing "you know" at least once in every sentence. He didn't realize that he did that, until my wife and I both pointed it out to him. Frequently, until he became as annoyed at our reminders as we were by the phrase. But he gave it up, almost entirely.

One of the most difficult pronunciation efforts was the word "Hospital". The closest he could come was "Horspishtull". It was when he tried to explain the difference between English and Vietnamese that I began to learn more from Larry, than he learned from me.

Vietnamese, like many Eastern Asian languages, is based on tone. That's why spoken Vietnamese sounds like "Sing song". He gave me an example, saying the same word a half-dozen times. They all sounded the same to me, but he explained that depending on intonation the word can have any of several different meanings, such as "ghost" and "spirit" ... which when you think of it, can be interpreted variously in English as well.

But even more edifying was the day when we sat at my kitchen table and he explained to me what it was like living in Vietnam before, and after, the Communist take-over.

He said the pre-communist government was prone to promising much, but delivering little. In his words: "The president promised us one thousand things, but only one of them came true."

And as for the communists?

"Pay no attention to what they say; but pay careful attention to what they do."

I may have remembered minor details incorrectly ... it has been 30 years since I've seen or talked to Larry. But I'm clear in my memory that in 1970's Vietnam these were supposedly the most common sayings in his country, and were considered Universal Truths.

Perhaps these sayings (aphorisms, homilies , etc.) should be more widely familiar to Americans in the 2010's.

Remember these words when you vote today. And remember how the incumbents got elected.

"Just words?"

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