To CA and Back

[Lost this post already...try, try again...]

Just got back from Berkeley. It's Sunday night and haven't posted since Friday night because the hotel's backbone kept dropping out.

August 6...
Saturday morning:
- Went back to E/M's for breakfast and got to see C/D, E.'s sons. They're both in their 30's now. Maybe because I'm in my mid-40s, but they still seem so young and have their lives in front of them.
- C. lives in Burbank and is listed on IMDB as a camera operator and off-line film editor. He and his bride just had the cutest little girl but she had a fever and ear infection, so C. was there by himself. The good news was the fever broke over the weekend.
- D. is a doctor/doctor (PhD/MD) who's finishing his psychiatry residency in a Los Angeles emergency room. Still single as far as I know. Must have something to do with his Hunchback-ala-Notre-Dame hump and looks (joke).
- Did the fruit, cereal, and gossip thing, then Liz and I went to a bike shop in beautiful downtown Berkeley and headed back to the room.

Saturday afternoon:
- Gathered up the family and Frank, and went to E/M to prepare for the memorial service (below). Greatly admired all three daughters for sucking it up and going, despite the fact it was something they didn't want to do, and some originally hinted they wouldn't go to the service. I was and am so proud of them this weekend for taking that important step in knowing being a real grownup is taking on pain that you can avoid, but won't because it is the right thing to do.
- Prior to going into the nursing home for the service, a kind stranger pointed out our extremely flat tire. Another adventure.

Grama's service:
- There was quite a turnout, considering it wasn't in Nevada. In addition to Hume descendants and spouses, there were Grama's caregivers, Robert and Billie (funny story below), Elaine's co-workers and good friends, and old compadres like Mark Gorrell.
- Chris officiated and did very well. Sasha provided fantastic acoustic guitar accompaniment (15 years old!). Some of us spoke, others sang, and many of us cried (including me). It was gentle, precious, and a good lifelong memory. (My tribute is below.)
- T/D held out through the service but both were hurting, so Robert and Billie very kindly took then back to the hotel. L. represented them well.

After that:
- Called Hertz for roadside service, even though Mike was ready to assist, but it was not a day for that. The dude, his seven-year-old son, and I spent 20 minutes looking for the spare, which turned out to be underneath the van. He got the donut on and we made it to E/M to swap memories and to watch the A's obliterate the Royals, 16-1.
- We got back to the room, watched some TV, sang a little, and crashed.

August 7...
Sunday morning or this morning, if you prefer:
- Called to find an open tire place and got lucky on the first try. That meant we were not staying another night, a real possibility. Checked out.
- Did a brunch with the Merrills, Zinzers, a German, and Moores (12 in all). As we didn't know where we were going, Billie volunteered to navigate. We knew she had vision problems, but turns out they were a tad worst that we thought. The cafe was southwest of E/M's house; Billie had us going northwest towards El Cerrito. The blind was leading the deaf. It was hilarious.
- Afterwards, spent a couple of hours at the tire place waiting for them to repair and mount the tire. Got to listen to the counter person tirelessly tell folks about the tow she broke in the morning, but she made it to work.

- Sunday afternoon: Drove home.

Right now...tired, sweaty and achey. Still feeling a little sad and lost, but a little more at peace. Still question the need for loved ones to pass on. On one hand, the system inflicts needless pain. On the other, Grama was ready to go and be back with Grampa. The system needs improvement but can't think of a better one right now. Still can't lose the general sense of unfairness about the whole damn thing.

Aside from that, am totally proud of everyone who was there or who wanted to be there. Everyone shined and was there for everyone else. Elaine and Mike are such a good team, and they took good care of us and did everything so well. They are my heroes and I am humbled.

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Dear Grama –
- I know you’re here and I know that you’re having a good chuckle at our expense. You should be laughing at us. Here we are, trying to be both serious and humorous at the same time. Some of us are uncomfortable and some of us are missing you a lot. And some of us are wishing we had told you a few things when we had the chance. Well, like I said, you’re here, and I've got some things you should hear said out loud.
- About once or twice a year for the last twenty years, you said that when your time came, you didn’t want anyone to make a fuss about you. I find this ironic because your family has been nothing but a fuss to you. Your daughters, your grandchildren, your great-grandchildren…all a challenge in one way or another. I’ll get back to that in a minute.
- Some things we know about you that others may not continue to amaze us. You were an only child, the stereotypical California girl, raised in sunlight and warm temperatures, enjoying summers on Catalina Island. You were a life guard when you were a teenager, for God’s sake, so it’s hard to imagine you were doing the “Baywatch” thing long before it became stylish for women to show their limbs in public. And this world-traveling thing? What is up with that? Many of us just dream of faraway people and places. You actually went everywhere you wanted to go. The truth is, “adventure” is your middle name.
- Sometime in there, you chose a life partner who, in a weather sense, was your exact opposite. You married this guy from the upper Midwest that was raised in a state that has two seasons: winter and July. What were you thinking? Was it his keen intellect? His razor-sharp wit? His dashing good looks? Looking at this fine group, it obvious all these attributes were passed onto his good-looking descendents here.
- (By the way, Grampa, we know you’re here, and we miss you, too.)
- Other amazing things: you saw the Twentieth Century, perhaps the greatest era in human civilization. You were a witness to Charles Lindberg flying solo across the Atlantic and the Apollo 11 landing on the moon. You saw the Great War That Ended All Wars and the sequel known as World War II. When you moved to Nevada in the 1940s, Reno was the largest city in Nevada with a population of about 30,000. Carson City is twice that size now. And you got to see downtown Reno flood…twice.
- Your sense of humor is very subtle. You said you voted Republican only once, and that was during the Harding administration. The fact that you were probably 10 years old at the time probably flew over everyone’s head in the room, including me. And you once said understood and adored Reggie Jackson. That one fact by itself is just so very cool.
- And your life has a fascinating “yin-yang” thing going. Your grandfather was a Civil War doctor and now one of your grandsons is a doctor. You’ve been to so many faraway places and another grandson found a vocation that takes him to those same places. You are a published author and poet, and so are your kin. You found the love of your life and I can say with a great amount of certainty that your married offspring here have found theirs, too.
- Which takes me back to the “making a fuss” thing. This may come as a surprise to some, but we may have been a trial to you, some of us more than others. Yet despite everything we did, and we did a lot, you never seemed to mind or were really bothered by it. I’m guessing it’s because you know that all that happens to us in this journey known as Life is to be cherished and learned from, and that includes the bad things, too.
- For myself, I want to thank you for cherry pie and vanilla ice cream, for eggs over medium, and marmalade toast. Thank for taking out the countless splinters that little boys manage to find in old fences, and just so you know, I really didn’t mind that silly old needle. Thank you for the gift of reading and for giving us the need to seek discovery and adventure.

Thank you for always believing we were good people, especially during those times we did not believe it ourselves.
Thank you for being there and being rock steady when we all needed it.
Thank you for being proud of my family.
Thank you for being proud of me.
Thank you for being my grandmother.
Luv ya.