In Memoriam
Remembering Barb
Jul 11th
Just three months ago in my blog, I shared my memories of my cruise in the Mediterranean last spring with my sister-in-law, Barb. Less than two weeks before I wrote that piece, Barb had been diagnosed with lung cancer which had rapidly spread throughout her body; and the day after the blog was published, Barbara Ann passed away. She was the first in our family of my generation (siblings, cousins and spouses) to die, and I know I am not alone among us in still processing that fact and coming to terms with the idea that I will not be sharing another wonderful trip or girls’ weekend with her.
Barb was warm, generous, kind-hearted and full of fun in life, and her husband Glenn wanted to be sure that any sort of memorial service for her reflected her spirit. Neither of them liked traditional funerals, so my brother knew what Barb’s service should NOT be like. He waited until the initial shock at her passing had passed and the calendar was more amenable to travel. He then sent out a notice that on July 10 there would be a gathering in a park near their home. He recalled how much Barb, a Southern California native, had loved the crowds of evergreens on the hills of her adopted home in the Pacific Northwest. He asked that those who were able plant a tree in Barb’s memory and attend the gathering if they could.
Yesterday a whole bunch of Barb’s loved ones — family and friends going back to her childhood and from near and far — gathered at that park and shared memories and stories of her. There was no speech-giving or song-singing, and prayers were of the silent kind between each individual and his God. Instead, it was so like Barbara’s favorite kind of get-together, where everyone mingled and caught up with everyone else while the kids played on the swings and jungle gym. Cousins who hadn’t seen each other in a dozen years or more hugged and exclaimed over how big the children had grown and how good it was to reconnect again. Far from being a solemn occasion, this one boasted much laughter; and off to one side was a large bulletin board on which Glenn posted pictures of some of the trees planted for Barb along with pictures of her from throughout her life (including several from that cruise we shared the year before) and those dearest to her — particularly grandson Gavin.
Later, a smaller group of us gathered at my brother’s home and shared more time together while we sipped Barb’s favorite libation, lemon drops. As the day drew to a close, each of us prepared to head for home or overnight accomodations. Hugs were exchanged and plans made to see each other again soon, call or write. Glenn seemed so pleased that the day had been everything he had hoped it would be and none of what neither he nor Barb didn’t want. It was, just like our dear one, full of life, love and laughter, and a true celebration of her spirit that all of us continue to carry with us.
– Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor
Memorial Weekend Gathering
May 30th
I just returned from a family get-together. I’ve mentioned my large and somewhat unconventional family several times in my blogs before, and this gathering involved “just” my Kennedy siblings and their families. Nevertheless, we made for a sizable group: six of the seven Kennedy brothers and sisters attended (our youngest sister is currently traveling in Europe); four of their five spouses were there, and six of our eight children came along, plus one partner and a baby on the way.
While most of us live in Oregon and Washington state, oldest brother Bill and his wife live in Oklahoma and don’t make it out this way very often.  When we learned they were planning a trip here a few months ago, calendars were consulted and schedules coordinated to make this reunion possible. We had a splendid time, first catching up on all the news of jobs, graduations, awards, triumphs and challenges. As the day progressed and a big box of old photos and letters came out, we Kennedy kids turned to reminiscences and funny stories about our memories of growing up together. Spouses and offspring heard a few new stories about the people we were before they came into our lives, and everyone had a good chuckle over those hairstyles and clothes from the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s.
It was fitting that this gathering occurred on Memorial Day Weekend, for we also shared memories of our parents, Jim and Jewel Kennedy, who passed away in 1972 and 1973, respectively, when the youngest of us was only 8 and the oldest was 19. We agreed that we had enjoyed a great childhood where we could roam the neighborhoods, woods and creeks near home without fear. Through the concern and nurturing of family, friends and our new extended family (the Sipes, who fostered the four youngest siblings), we have maintained a close and loving family who truly enjoy each other’s company and sense of humor. The greatest memorials we can offer to our parents are the lives we’ve come to live and the continued love and support we offer each other and all those who have become part of this family and will enter it in the future.
I wish you happy memories of those you’ve loved and lost this Memorial Day Weekend, and treasured times with those who are special in your life.
– Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader
Remembering Kathy
Nov 1st
Last Sunday I got a call from my sister Julie in Portland. I was all set to have a good chat and catch up on all her news, but she said she had some sad news to share with me first. She had been looking through that day’s Oregonian newspaper, and in glancing over the names and pictures in the obituaries, a face she recognized jumped out at her. She told me that my college roommate and friend, Kathy Healy, had died. Julie gave me the details from the article as I went in search of my own copy of the paper and tried to wrap my head around this news.
I met Kathy during my freshman year at Oregon College of Education (later to become Western Oregon University), where we were on the same dorm floor. My first impressions were that she was a bit quiet but always had a smile and a positive attitude. Towards the end of that year my roommate, Diane, and I were looking for another girl to join us in a four-person suite for the next year, and Kathy indicated she’d be happy to join us.
For the next three years, we three shared a dorm room and then an off-campus apartment. I soon learned that in addition to her sunny outlook, Kathy also had a keen sense of humor and a sharp wit that teased but never stung. She could make you laugh at yourself, but just as often she was poking fun at her own foibles. I remember her delight at convincing a few gullible dormmates that she was a Native American princess. The fact that she was from The Dalles (terminus of the Oregon Trail and close to the Warm Springs Indian Reservation) and had a lovely olive complexion (courtesy of her mom’s Italian heritage and the eastern Oregon sun) aided in her deception, but I didn’t know how she managed to not give herself away by laughing while telling her tale. That is what I remember most about Kathy — her beautiful smile and her delighted and delightful giggle.
We never had a class together — Kathy was studying to be a special ed teacher and I was into literature and drama — but we shared daily life and a few summer adventures together. A few years after graduation when I married, she was one of my bridesmaids, and then shortly after that she moved to California. We never discussed why, exactly, she left behind her parents and her three brothers, all of whom she loved fiercely and who loved her as devotedly, but I think she was a bit restless to bust out and make a change in her life and get out on her own a bit. She worked in the airline industry for quite a while, and it was in California that she met her husband and started a family.
The last time I saw Kathy was more than 10 years ago. We’d brought our girls to Disneyland for spring break one year, and we took an evening to drive out and visit Kathy and her family in Redondo Beach. Her kids were very young, one had a bad cold, and my girls were hungry and squirmy, so it wasn’t the best of circumstances to catch up. I could see, though, that even with all the concerns and hassles of a working mom, Kathy still had her sparkle and sense of humor. Since then we continued to exchange Christmas cards, and then somewhere along the way Kathy’s stopped coming, and I wasn’t sure that mine were getting through.
Through the obituary I learned that Kathy returned to teaching special education students about 10 years ago, and that she taught right up until three weeks before the cancer she’d been fighting for two years took her life. I was glad to read that she was teaching, for her sweet nature and generous and fun-loving spirit made her an excellent teacher. And it didn’t surprise me at all to hear how she faced her illness with courage and humility, because that is the Kath I knew.
My heart goes out to her family, especially to her two daughters and son and her husband Chris. Although we have been out of touch these last several years, I feel the loss of Kathy’s sweet and generous soul. The world was certainly a better place because she was here.
–Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader
Airport Confusion
Sep 11th
Ever have one of those moments when you just scratch your head in confusion as you watch your surroundings? I had one of those moments a couple of weeks ago at San Francisco International Airport. En route to Philadelphia from San Diego, I had a connection in San Francisco. I was flying the red eye, departing SFO at 10:30 p.m.
I killed the three hour layover by grabbing a bite to eat and reading a magazine. As I made my way to the gate, I was caught off-guard by the number of people milling around. I noticed on the board the gate was separated into A and B. The large number of people was due to two flights’ worth of passengers waiting at the gate. One flight was departing for Newark and the other was departing for Philadelphia. Both left at 10:30 — meaning both would be loading at exactly the same time.
This is where the head scratching came into play. As it came time to load, it was chaotic. The gate agents were dueling each other to be heard. Passengers were getting in the wrong lines. People were lining up to board at the wrong time because they were confused by which announcement pertained to which flight. People were hesitant to check bags at the gate because of all the confusion, but overhead bins were quickly reaching capacity. Kids were crying, making the announcements harder to hear. People were losing spots in line because they were in the wrong line. People that had just walked up to the gate were asking questions and delaying announcements from the gate agents. It was mayhem. And, I had to scratch my head and wonder when I looked to the right and saw a row of empty gates. Why on earth didn’t they board these two flights at different gates? I guess I will never understand the reasoning behind that move. Luckily, I got on the right plane and quickly settled in.
I would be remiss not to mention the eighth anniversary of 9/11 today. The events of this day eight years ago will never be forgotten and will forever be in the hearts of every American. Our thoughts are with all those who lost their lives, the heroes who selflessly sacrificed their lives and those who lost loved ones. We will never forget.
–Kim Krol, eFlyer editor, circulation and public relations executive
