CEDARHILL

Friends Forever...Jennie Jenkins

Jennie and Helen were sparks for this world, and in each other they found much common ground to enjoy.  Both had open minds, a love of people, a willingness to discover new things, an appreciation of all things green and growing and an abiding faith in God.

It was a blessing to both to find themselves neighbors for nearly ten years before Jennie had to move to Texas. It was ten years of shared joy and friendship.

Even in the last two years when mother's dementia got so bad she had a hard time tracking down her memories....the sound of Jennie's voice on the other end of the phone brought back an immediate explosion of joyful recognition...with "Ohhhh  Jeennnnie...it's you!".

I found a poem in Mothers papers which was part of her Jennie file...and I'm not sure if Jennie gave it to mother or mother gave it to jennie...but it certainly reflected their love for each other.

A Friend

There are many kinds of people in this world we travel through:

But the kind we need a lot more of is the kind of folks like you.

We need that hearty handclasp, We need that pleasant smile

All those little things you do, to make life seem worth while.

We need that kindly interest in the things we try to do;

To know that someone cares a bit when we are feeling blue.

And when the sun shines through the clouds, and we see our dreams come true;

Then life is all the sweeter, for having friends like you.

Jennie passed away yesterday at age 99.

Her son Bill says her wishes were to be creamated and have a mass and a breakfast at Holy Angels Church, here in Globe.

Posted Video Clip

See:Just uploaded the video (JUST CHECKED IT... it takes awhile to load. be patient. Clip #2 is a smaller format, so it loads quicker) which susan and I developed for Mothers memorial. She found a wonderful version of Dvorak's 9th on the internet, along with words from Calico Cat. Although it is beautiful, we both decided it was more subdued than mother and went with the more eclectic video with Kathy Matea's song: Why walk when you can fly?" and Cole Porters song: "Accentuate the Positive."
We ended the service with this. Check out the new website and see Fav Clip 1 and 2....

Mother's Memorial Service

Mother's memorial service was this weekend.  After raining every day since Monday, the skies cleared on Saturday, the full moon shown, and the yard never looked more beautiful - with the help of many hands..and the good graces of the Almighty.
The celebration of her life, brought family and friends in from all dif. stages of her life. A few sent notes and letters from far away places likeTexas, Kansas and Germany. Others drove up from Safford,Tucson or Kingman to be a part of the evening at CedarHill. As with life, the journey of the day itself...was as much a celebration of sharing lives with each other..as was mother's memorial. Something she would have approved of wholeheartedly!

There was the project of putting her photos together for the patio wall, and setting up tents, chairs, flowers, food, and candles. Each project required many hands and .... as you can see, much group discussion as to "what was best for the evening."  Andrew, Eric and Jim engineered our carport area- draping it in fabric, and lighting the "wall of photos" (see photo album to the right), Paula took a box of raffia and along with Kim and Renee draped the yard with raffia-wrapped sunflowers.

A simple stage with white paint on an old concrete wall - was turned into a "stage" for memories with the help artist Marianne, who painted the detail border the night before, and Renee and Kim who accessorized with flowers, a Queen Anne  chair and water glasses for speakers. The boys made sure there were candles glowing from the front yard to the back - and ringing  everyone distributed candles leading from the front yard to the back.

Susan led the evening off with Teilhard Chardins' quote "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience,"...and went on to talk about mother's human experience. One story was about a terrible fight she had with her cousin when they were both only 12. It was over a book. Aaron had returned a library book that Susan had been reading and she was furious. To the point to an all-out fight. Mother, who was a single parent, raising 3 kids, was going to school and working...all with very little money....went out and bought Susan the book "The Northwest Passage" and handed it to her - with the inscription:"Remember, people are always more important than things."

It is hard to encapsulate life with mother,but I found myself coming back to the story about "Yes you may." Of all the things that mother gave me, it was that ground-swell of love and support which came wrapped in that little phrase. Originally it came out of a story about my other cousin who constantly asked her mother if she could go visit Aunt Helen. "Why do you want to go so badly, her mother asked.

Because Aunt Helen will say YES! Yes, you surely may.

Mother took that approach to everyone - as close as I can tell. With me. With students she taught. With guests who visited on her front porch. With travelers with dirty dogs & rowdy kids.With friends who asked for advice. With strangers who needed a hand. She provided wings....with alittle "lift".

Guy took the stage and talked about almost quitting his job at the assisted living place he had worked at for 2 days because it just didn't seem right for him. UNTIL, he walked in on his third day and this new woman, sitting in the living room chair, welcomed him with such warmth "Well, Heelllow there!" that he decided to stay and chat. That little hello changed the course of all of our lives, as Guy went on to become mothers personal caregiver at CedarHill., making everyone in his presence feel loved, appreciated..and bringing joy to mother and I and the house at CedarHill.

Andrew read the poem "A House by the Side of the Road", which reflects mothers life. I can think of many houses she had which offered her the chance to live her life in the manner which fit her spirit: The International House in Manhattan, with its 17 bedrooms and host of international students. The farm house in St. George, shared with vet students and a menagerie of animals. The Boulder house we shared with our first Chinese exchange student. And of course, Cedar Hill.

The opening lines are this..

"There are hermit souls that live within drawn: In the place of their self-content;

There are souls like stars, that dwell apart, In a fellowless firmament;

There are pioneer souls that blaze either path;Where highways never ran-

But let me live by the side of the road;And be a friend to man.

She was just that...

It was a very rich, well-lived life. She made the most of the talents and resources she a
had by passing them around to whoever was in her life and needed them. It's a fine legacy
to leave your kids. This world.  Thanks mother.

thoughts of others.

From AnneMarie:

"..helen was very beautiful in body, soul and spirit. The translation of the original Greek word angel is herald. And wasn't she a messenger of love and care? She also taught courage, endurance and wisdom. And she also had a keen and alert sense of understanding.

It is so good to remember Helen' voice, especially her tender word: "honey". How sweet her voice on the telephone. And she always said the right thing to me up to the very last time on New Year 2008.

What does Helen want me to do? I think she wants me to continue doing what she did: spreading love, daring to think and act accordingly and keeping my sense of humor.

From Dave Kromm:

"...Helen suffered fools badly. Although accepting of a wide diversity of people, she disdained the overstuffed and pretentious. Helen had many good friends in the academic and business worlds, and she was to the point in expecting them to be humble, honest, and sincere. "

from Susan - a note sent from a mother to a daughter..

Mothers Letters

I'm working on  mothers memorial  service, planned  for September and  I'm  going through old letters. She kept  almost every correspondence she  had, although  the storage area got flooded one year and we lost several boxes to damage. Still, there are over 300 letters.
What strikes me at first are the doubts and the struggles represented in these. She had forgotten that life was ever hard, but the letters to family and friends show that she was human. She worried. She was mis-directed sometimes. She lived on "a wing-and-a-prayer" many times.Money was always a challenge. Optimisim was not. She
expected things would work out...and they did...but sometimes it required 2-3 jobs.
Her letters remind me of a remarkable life....that was remarkably human.

Dr. Alford, whom she had worked with as a research assistant in 1970, for his book "The Proud People" remained friends with Mother for the next 30 years, corresponding  at  least 3-4 times a year.  In one of his letters he says this:"...Helen, you go through jobs the way other women go through husbands, and apparently in the same sequence--passionate love, a cooling of ardor, but a determination to make it work, recognition of irreconcilable incompatibility, separation, and a new romance!
At any rate, I'm glad we shared one of your longer professional commitments. "

   

On her own terms

After a very brief time in the nursing home here, mother's mind and body just gave out. Or, maybe it was a force of will from a woman who never did well in controlled environments.

Mother passed away this morning at 3am in a hospital room with oxygen and heart monitors keeping trackof her vitals.A nurse, named Melissa, held her hand in those last few hours because I had gone home to get some sleep. It was a good hand to hold. Caring. Melissa said she could tell mother was a kind lady. Always smiled and looked at her with those bright blue eyes. When I got there Melissa passed her hand to me. Which I think was more for my benefit than Mothers. If I have one regret it is that I was not there for those few hours. But I know in this path we all walk with our aging parents that we wouldn't make it without the help of others. That it doesn't always have to be our hand they hold.

Several weeks ago my sister called to talk to Mother and asked her how she was feeling.

Mother thought for awhile and said, "I feel loved."  And so she was.

For now... that is enough to know.

      

Stylin' at 86

I found these boots at The Pickle Barrel and they are just right for mother. Warm and fuzzy on the inside....stylish on the outside.

Just like she is.

We both sat on the porch for awhile this afternoon waiting for someone to walk down the sidewalk....so we could give a "shout out" from the porch.

No one ever did. It was a quiet day. Still, all in all, we decided it was a good day. Warm sunshine and a porch view are enough sometimes to make a person feel that all is right with the world.

As for the boots. Mother likes them so much, she has to know where they are at any moment in time. Lest they be lost. I am surprised she doesn't sleep in them!

We also went for a hair appointment today at a new place. The girls there were wonderfully accomodating and Linda, the stylist has been doing this for 30 years. She took alot of time with mother and after doing the perm, rolled it into soft curls. Mother has decided that the new "do" even makes her white hair look OK.. Although, she'd still rather be a strawberry blonde.

Blues Eyes/Brown Eyes

Taking family photos this week when my aunts, uncle and sister/niece were all in Globe included many groupings of  the Kennedy's brothers/sisters who all have striking blue eyes. Everyone was noting how beautiful the blue eyes were, when my sister noted that there were three of us who had brown eyes and it was time to get shot of the "brown eyes."

I had to ask mother to move fom her perch on the wall to make room for the grouping of Brown-eyed folks, saying

"Blues eyes are out. Brown eyes are in."  ...to which, mother promptly noted:

"Well, it was bound to happen sometime"

I wonder if she realizes how funny she is sometimes?

See more photos from the Reunion Week under Family - Photo Albums (to the left) 

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From Mother's files...

The english language and its unique lunancy.....

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another.

As if you didn't have enough to ponder in life already!

SANTA

In addition to the usual gift giving activity going on this time of year, questions arise which hardly cause a blimp on the radar during other times of the year. Like the question of where SANTA comes from...

It all started with a monk named St. Nicholas..

It is believed that Nicholas was born sometime around 280 A.D. in Patara, near Myra in modern-day Turkey. Much admired for his piety and kindness, St. Nicholas became the subject of many legends. It is said that he gave away all of his inherited wealth and traveled the countryside helping the poor and sick. One of the best known of the St. Nicholas stories is that he saved three poor sisters from being sold into slavery or prostitution by their father by providing them with a dowry so that they could be married. Over the course of many years, Nicholas's popularity spread and he became known as the protector of children and sailors. His feast day is celebrated on the anniversary of his death, December 6. This was traditionally considered a lucky day to make large purchases or to get married. By the Renaissance, St. Nicholas was the most popular saint in Europe. Even after the Protestant Reformation, when the veneration of saints began to be discouraged, St. Nicholas maintained a positive reputation, especially in Holland.

And for the complete story, along with the text from the 1897 New York Sun "Yes, Virgina there is a Santa Clause"  go to....

http://www.growley.com/history.html