Red Room Where the Writers Are

Every Shut Eye Isn't Asleep

A dear elder cousin told me I'd not lived long enough to understand death and mourn friends.  When two would pass on the same day, then I was old enough.  It has happened this year.  It began on January 31. Then in seven days, I'd lost eight friends, relatives, acquaintances.  The death list has grown beyond imagination this year.

I grew up in Boston and knew Teddy Kennedy "well" compared to the rest of the world.  We were sidewalk chatting buddies and note writers.  No matter where I lived in the USA, Teddy would respond to a note or send on on his own to me.

As Teddy's body crossed the Potomac into Arlington, I saw my final resting place.  My remains will one day be interred atop my late husband.  Yes, the boom camera caught our grave and I completely lost it.  We will again in time be "neighbors".  Our grave is visible from the President's  and his brothers' resting place if you know what tree and bush to look for.

My immediate family consisted of five and deminished with death.  There are cousins.  However, neighbors became family.  I knew them better than the extended family members.  I spent more time with them than the kinfolk.  The elders spoke only Portugese.  The second and third generations spoke English and Portugese.  I learned to speak Portugese fast.  I'd go to the "country" towards Cape Cod for weekends with the neighbors and the baby sister a few years my senior.  In the country, only Portugese was spoken.  So if I wanted anything or to participate in the conversations, I learned the language.

My Mom dropped dead before I was the age of majority.  Arlene's Mom, elder to my Mom, promised me, that as long as she had breath in her  body she was my Mom.  "Ma" Delia was true to her word.  I had a Mother longer than my Mom lived.  All this side of my "family" moved to California from Massachusetts.  They spread across the width of the State.  I "moved" out to join them.  My belongings were packed for the moving van to pick up.  I was establishing my life in California,  however, I slept through a 6.9 earthquake and called it quits.  I used my return ticket to find myself back in my warehouse on the East Coast.

Many times, I'd fly into California.  I was as happy as a lark with all of them. We had more adventures in California than we had in Massachusetts.

The end of June, Arlene's husband, called me, I knew something had to be wrong.  He was never a phone caller.  I asked him three times, "What's wrong".  He gave Arlene the telephone.  She said she was calling to say, "I love you and good-bye.  I was just diagnosed of pancreatic cancer."

She was on morphine.  I had one other time to chat with her before the morphine took complete control of her.  She was one happy person.  Just like normal.

I'd call every few days.  She was slipping.

I called Sunday 20 September 11:28a pdst.   Earl told me only her face muscles were moving when we talk to her.

Monday 21 September 12:38p pdst, Earl called to say that the full Hospice Team arrived about 11:10a to do their evaluations and other work.  Arlene slipped the bounds of earth with many in her room at home at 11:20a.

The Hospice Team had prepared Arlene for the mortuary.  She was still in her bed when he called me.

My big sister has slipped  away from us.  No more pain. Now she is celebrating with new adventures where we all must go.

Arlene, I too love you and all my Portugese family.  See you in time, Dear.