Lobby of Hyatt Regency SF
Karri and Pete also took us to their bungalow in the Sierra Nevada foothills for a few days, with one day trip to Yosemite. That was spectacular. Can I limit myself to one picture? I took many. Okay, let's do two.
Okay, maybe three, as I have to include our hosts.
One thing that struck as we drove and walked around northern California with Karri and Pete was how often I thought of a story about Mom. I finally made myself stop sharing them, they came up so often. Oddly enough, I can't remember now what those stories were. I think some of them probably had to do with family vacations as a kid, but honestly, I'm not sure what to attribute the abundance of Mom-sharing to. Karri was perhaps the most consistent of my friends to call me and see how we were doing with Mom's care while she was with us. But there was more going on than just that.
Golden Gate Bridge
We also spent 4 days in Mesa, AZ, with our daughter Jobee and her boyfriend Justin. We had an enjoyable, relaxing, and hot time there, including a visit to the Phoenix Botanical Gardens.
The truth is, I'm only giving a very abbreviated version of our vacation. When we got home, we took a few more days off, then started working our way back into some sort of routine of work and downtime. I was supposed to go to lunch on the Tuesday after we got back with my friend and colleague, Shelly. Shortly before leaving on our trip, I attended a work-related 'retreat,' and that's when we set the date. Shelly was diagnosed almost exactly a year ago with pancreatic cancer. She had surgery, but was constantly struggling with chemo and radiation. They would start the treatments, and her platelets would go out of whack. So they would stop, and try another dose, combination, whatever. So things like lunch with a friend were a high priority for Shelly, especially since she didn't always know if she would be feeling up to it on any given day.
The day before we were to meet, I sent her an email, asking where she would like to meet. That evening, when I checked my email to see if she had answered, there was an email from a mutual friend and colleague, Ellen, with the subject line "News about Shelly." The email said I should call Ellen. I knew this was not good. I called her. She, too, had just returned from a two-week vacation. She reported that Shelly had been have trouble with a post-surgery stent, and had been in and out of the hospital while we were both gone. The Thursday before, she learned, Shelly became unresponsive. On Sunday, June 13, Shelly died.
Shelly and I were friends, though not in each others' closest circles. And I can't stop thinking about Shelly, and how sad it is that I will never bump into her on campus, and that we'll weren't able to have that last scheduled lunch. Shelly was a great teacher, tough and demanding, and I admired her dedication and the tremendous hard work she put into moving her students to a new level of understanding. And I know that somehow, the grief for Shelly is weighted on top of the grief for Mom, magnifying both.
And I can't stop thinking about the loss, our loss, now that Shelly is gone.
