Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Why We Are Here, Part II


Ken Ross
June 1, 1951 - January 28, 2009



John and Ken in the Spring of '08

I must take this time to revisit "Those No Longer With Us and Why We Are Here" (http://lifeinalessandria.blogspot.com/2008/06/those-no-longer-with-us-are-why-we-are.html) and add a part II.

The evening before Kim's departure from Seattle, Wednesday, January 28th at 10 PM, our friend Ken died, drifting away from us but forever residing in our hearts.

I still can see him in my mind's eye standing with his beloved partner, John, at the airport departure area as Kim and I walked toward security to begin our journey here to Italy. The smiles were abundant and broad as we happily waved to one another calling "See you again soon!" Did Kim and I know or really believe that upon our return Ken would be gone? No, not really. It was a thought that had occurred to us but like things that we don't really want to look at or believe, we pushed it away in a swoop of denial. By the time September came around and I returned to Seattle to offer help with a hospitalization, I knew the truth and carried that knowledge back with me. I knew then that I was saying goodbye, in person, forever.

Both Ken and John are the types of friends that are steadfast and true. They are the type of friend that you can call for anything at anytime day or night. I tended to call Ken "Big Brother" (and other unmentionable but endearing names) because he was the big brother I never had. Ken was someone who made you feel worthwhile and important. He was a very good listener and often would remark, "That is really a good point you've brought up." He knew a lot about so many things, intellectual and otherwise. He had a wicked wit and a tremendous sense of humor, rarely if ever, succumbing to self pity despite years of illness. He made the four of us laugh so hard whenever we were together even when we wanted to cry at what he was enduring. He was so happy with John and all their home and garden projects. I know he was happy to have died in their love filled home.

Ken would jump at any opportunity to help out with a project from hanging a picture to computer glitches to general problem solving. Before we left Seattle he tried to help me install an outside bolt/lock on our gate. Long story short, it really didn't work and the fence was left with a few extra holes. At the time I felt annoyance and frustration. But now upon our return to Seattle it will be where we will say hello each day as we walk by and run our hands over the mostly useless lock. For us it will be a shrine...

Kim did me proud as she returned to Seattle and remained present and available to the painful situation. Ken had his own special nickname for her which is "La Boca" (translation: "the mouth"). She tells me that he would smile whenever she'd whisper in his ear that La Boca was there...what an image! But what Kim mostly would tell me was how totally in awe she was of John and his care and devotion for Ken as he was dying. John was such a fierce advocate for Ken and put his whole heart and soul into making Ken comfortable and cared for as Ken transitioned away from us. Ken died surrounded by love not only from John but also from his family and close friends. Can we ask for more at such a time?

For now I know I am keeping the total truth at arm's length--this distance helps or rather, delays the impact. I do know that upon my return to Seattle I will have much to confront and take in. For now I ache for John and his loss as I hold away my own pending ache(s).

So now I end up back to where Kim wrote these months back regarding why this journey became essential. Essential despite the logic of finances and work responsibilities. Some of our closest friends are no longer here with us and their deaths have shown me that the time to act is now, especially when there is a dream at stake. There are always plentiful reasons to not do something and this can be okay. I have learned that it is important to be honest with myself and to acknowledge that I am making a choice. I hope to continue making choices, owning my choices, and then diving in to discover the experiences wrought from those choices. I don't know how much time remains for me. I do not assume that I will retire some day and then my opportunities will come,
Because:
Lindy died at age 62.
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Shelle died at age 55.
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Eileen died at age 55.
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And our dear friend Val (no picture here with us) in London died at 48.

Ken died at the age of 57; before I know it, I will be turning 56. So, I'm thinking that by now you get my point....

To anyone reading this, examine your moments and choices. There always are options--perhaps not the one we'd hoped for; it may be a bit different than what would be perfect or ideal. Don't wait for perfect or ideal; it won't happen. If you want something, create it or at least try to and then go from there.


If you'd like to read more about Ken and how accomplished he was, please go to:

http://www.funerals.coop/obits.cfm?aId=23F51A27-C29B-57E0-8134E1ABEE6A2067

Thank you.

3 comments:

Harriet said...

My Dear Kim and Rachel,
I just talked to John and heard about Ken's passing. I tried to call you, not knowing you're in Italy. I am so sorry for your loss - words just don't seem to convey---- I spoke to him late last year and just had the sense that things were not good - it was if he were calling to say good-bye, even though he didn't say that. I am so sad - he was such a hero!

Your adventure of course has new meaning for you, as you say here, in light of what you've experienced with far too many friends. I do hope you thoroughly enjoy the rest of your sojourn, and that Ken's spirit travels with you, lighting your way to joy and laughter, remembering his ironic take on the world that kept us all on our toes and laughing all the time.

Love to you both,
Harriet

Anonymous said...

Dear Kim and Rachel-- Just read your tribute to Ken-- it's beautiful; I'm sobbing. Thank you for the pictures and your kind words. He was a terrific brother; I don't think I will ever stop grieving his passing. He was blessed to have you two as friends. Love, Judy

Ron said...

Dear Kim and Rachel,

What a beautiful tribute and wonderful perspective. Thank you, Rachel, for the writing and for the pictures. I had never seen that one with Monkey. Kim, the week we had together at the house leading up to January 28 will, I imagine, grow and grow in its importance in my life (and, at the risk of speaking for them, the lives of Judy and our mother, too). I am so happy that you and my wife, Dushka, were able to connect while she was there. For me, having Christopher in the home was such a great reconnection, as I had lost touch with him after Ken and he separated after Ken left L.A. Ken gave us that gift of being able to make and renew relationships, as we cared for him during those final days. Your "hats off" to John was elegantly understated. Ken left my the gift of being under the same roof with my mother, Judy, John, Dushka, you, Kelly and Ken. I missed seeing Rachel during her earlier visit during that horrible hospitalization. Perhaps the greatest last gift to me from Ken was the chance to become a friend and admirer of John, as opposed to being "John's partner's brother." I also want to share that during that week, my mother reminded me that, as an infant and toddler, I shared a bedroom with Ken, with he (as a 13-15 year-old) in his bed and me in my crib. Mom told me that Ken would often help her out by getting up with me, walking me, and changing me. I never knew that, and hearing that from my mom was so dear because it helped me understand the genesis of my deep connection to Ken. I've often felt "imprinted" on him (my big Duck) and learning of his care giving during my early months and years just might explain some of that, wouldn't you think? Dushka and I (and our girls) so look forward to seeing you and Rachel in July. Thank you both for the loving tribute from Italy…and we know that Seattle will never, ever be the same place it was when you left.

With Love and Gratitude,

Ron