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.

Shelle died at age 55.

Eileen died at age 55.

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.

Genoa!

September 4, 2008

The weather is starting to cool a bit; from high 80s down to lower 80s. That works for us and it’s time to take a day trip to Genoa. Genoa is just an hour away, south, by train and is on the coast that Kim so misses. Genoa’s location has contributed to its destiny—it’s on the Tyrrhenian Sea but also protected by mountains; this came in handy over the centuries as everyone was trying to conquer everyone else. It was already a trading post in the 6th Century BC; the Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Hannibal’s brother- all were interested and involved in its fate. Business competition and wars were a regular occurrence between Genoa, Pisa, and Venice. Later, Spain, Austria, France all had their hands on the area and once Italian unification took place it became the main port. With that distinction, it was heavily bombed during WWII and remained in bad shape until it came time to celebrate the 500 year mark of Christopher Columbus’ “discovery” of America in 1992.

(A small side bar on Columbus. Historically, there is much confusion and many questions regarding his origins and life circumstances. He himself was quite vague about his birth date and parents. Apparently, he may have been not only illegitimate and Jewish but poor which did not go over well when discussing money and business with kings and queens. And, his last name may not even have been Columbus but a name he took on as they didn’t have paparazzi and Geraldo in those days and it was easier to get away with fudging your true identity.)

Then in 2001 Genoa hosted the G8 summit which led to even more sprucing up of the city that continues to this day. Genoa’s hosting of the G8 summit was greatly influenced by the 500 year aforementioned anniversary and so when you depart the main train station, there he is, Mr. What’s His Name looking down upon you from great heights. (Oops! No picture! Next time.)

For me, the first time arrival in a large city can be a bit stressful given the need to orient oneself. It’s a real treat to know that we can come back and don’t have to see everything in one or two exhausting days. So for our first visit, we chose to visit the waterfront area which reminded us a lot of Vancouver Canada. On one of the piers they have the largest aquarium in Europe that comes highly rated in the guide books and a nearby museum devoted to the Italian’s Antarctic Exploration. Our future visits will include (drum roll….) their cemetery, other museums and palaces, wandering the many small winding streets, two funiculars and many more historical sites.

The aquarium was a pretty amazing setting; it was huge and built in the shape of a ship with several “decks” of exploration. There was a strong emphasis upon education and understanding the symbiotic nature between humans, the sea, and the need to protect all forms of sea life. There were huge elaborate exhibits that held vast quantities of sea life giving the public a bird’s eye view of their underwater world. They had a whole section on Madagascar and the uniqueness of that tiny island off the coast of Africa. It was all very tastefully done with amazing attention to detail. We were glad that we’d come on a Tuesday and since it’s almost time for school to begin (9/15), there were not vast quantities of tourists and children, allowing for a more relaxed viewing.

After the aquarium, we had lunch and both ordered pesto pasta dishes because Genoa is the birthplace of pesto. And, it was pretty darn tasty; I give them the prize. Coincidentally, our restaurant was right next door to the Antarctic museum so once fortified we entered that world. The Italians, the Brits and the US all have bases at Antarctica, as well as the original base of New Zealand’s. The museum took us through what it’s like to work and survive there while supplementing our knowledge with on-land and undersea videos. Again there was a strong emphasis upon the health of the oceans, the importance of Antarctica and its’ impact upon our world’s climate and how we as humans must become better stewards. We learned about sea currents (I never had really thought about them) and all the creatures that use those highways for their travel and survival.

So with that, we were so full of education that it was now time to rest our minds and wander over to explore the old (medieval) part of the city which is close to where the train station resides. As the waterfront reminded us of Vancouver, the old section of Genoa very much reminded us of Venice in the easy-to-get-lost twisty and narrow streets that wind and interlace with one another. Within them are more shops and flats than can be imagined with a cacophony of sound and vibration of life. People from many lands have made this their home and are working hard to earn a living. African men and women in their brightly colored clothes with matching turbans looking elegant and refined contrasted with the young, street savvy youth who appear to be looking for prey. Turks, Arabs, Chinese, Indians, all with their food specialties and presentations to lure one’s palate. It was a grand sight and interaction that bodes well during the daylight hours but is not a place I’d want to be at night.

We continued our walking and exploration, edging our way closer to what we hoped would soon be the train station. We tried using the water as our guide but did ultimately admit that we were lost and had best ask for directions if we wanted to make our train. We found a bar, bought 2 bottles of water and as we paid, asked directions. Happily, we were quite close and from there made our way back to the station for our trip home.

Genoa left me wanting more. I told Kim before the train began to depart that I want to return. It will be easier now that we’ve had this one day and have experienced the pre-requisite getting lost. Next time we’ll probably get lost again but I have enough experience now to know that that is when all the good finds and fun occur.