Memories from Juli

-------- Original Message --------
Subject:    Condolences
Date:    Fri, 26 Jul 2013 21:25:14 -0700
From:    Juli

Dear John,

Please forgive me for emailing, and not snail-mailing, this letter. I thought that if I sent it to you electronically, you could most easily share it with your siblings and nephews and nieces. (And there are photos at the bottom, which I only have in electronic form.)

I am so sorry to hear of the passing of your dear mother, Connie (and our longtime family friend). How far back our memories of her go! Far beyond my own life, but what I remember of Connie is outstandingly of a piece. She was intelligent, intellectually curious, opinionated (and usually right about things), funny, creative, generous, and loving. She was, in many ways, my alternate mom.

When we all lived in Ohio, I remember when your Siamese cats were giving birth, and Connie would summon us over so we could all watch. I remember her zeal in trying to create an apricot-point Siamese.

When we visited you in Germany, I remember how she tried to "go native" and give her directions to my Dad for "right" and "left" in German. But she'd get them mixed up ("Linx, linx! NO, rex!") , and my dad would fling his new red VW through sudden turns as he tried to deal with a last-moment course correction. I remember how she introduced my family to yogurt and kefir, and said they'd be good for my brother's arm (he had it in a sling some of the time we visited your family; he was recuperating from some injury).

I remember how when you lived in Huntington Beach, we were always invited down to see the lighted boats parading by at Christmastime. We were there so very often; on your boats, hanging out in your living room, eating meals together, playing board games together, and--above all--engaging in lively conversations together.

I remember the summer I lived with your parents in H'ton Beach as I attended classes at UC Irvine. Your nephew Dan and niece Jenny were visiting and needed to be driven to/from day camp, and Connie put me in charge of that. That made me feel great--less like a freeloader and more like a member of the family!  Brilliant. I remember how, every single night, Connie made a big tossed salad. That impressed me; my mom didn't--and when she did, she drowned it in dressing.

I remember also how Connie was great at finding bargains at garage and yard sales and how she had a terrific knack for interior decorating. It seems like every other time we visited, she had tweaked something in the house. I was so impressed with that; my mom tended to keep things exactly the same way, forever. It blew my mind that you could switch stuff up in your house, and toss some things out (or give them to friends, which is how I got an antique mirror from her), and redecorate at will.

I remember no matter what she did to redecorate, a large oil painting of sheep grazing--done in beautiful pearly grays and lavenders--always hung on the living room wall. Does that painting still "live" in the family?

I remember Connie declaring to me (and to anybody else within earshot) that information retrieval and storage would be the New Frontier of the 21st century--she was right about that!--and that is why I should become a librarian! Well, she didn't guess right on where we'd all store our information (who could imagine, eh?), but she was sure right about the trend in general.

Above all, I recall at all times her curly hair, her rosy cheeks, her ready smile, and her sharp-as-a-tack mind, always engaged, always interested, always involved in the world around her.

She was a terrific woman, and I grieve for her passing.

Below are a few photos I found in the Bliss archives. I thought you might enjoy them.

My love to you and your entire family. My your many wonderful memories of Connie be a blessing and a source of comfort.

Love always,

Juli