Re: [Fandfs] Cynthia, November, 2010

[Margo Davis <photomad@pacbell.net>]

Dear Honey, Sarah and Molly et al,

I have been searching for words to describe how meaningful it has been to have the recent mail from Honey and Sarah.  This morning, I must say, that Susan summoned the spirit, the mood, the words and the sentiments.  Ditto for me Susan.  I will share with Anika and Julian.

Love to all.

Big Hugs,

Margo


Margo Davis
Phone:  650.714.2146
Email: photomad@pacbell.net
http://www.margodavisphoto.com 




On Dec 11, 2010, at 9:08 AM, partridgeray@tiscali.co.uk wrote:

> Dearest Honey and Sarah  How wonderful, albeit very hard for you, that 
> Cynthia should live her dying days in just as unique and extraordinary 
> a way as she has lived her whole life.  Not for her lying back and 
> taking what's given her; just fading out and breathing less until no 
> more.  She's clearly totally involved - psychologically and spiritually 
> - with her passage to that other place and will play an active part in 
> every step she takes.  I only hope that the road gets smoother for her 
> and for all of you there, on-looking her journey.  I think of her and 
> you all constantly, as a background murmur to the immediate busyness my 
> everyday life.  I long to be there. Your splendid detailed account of 
> her complex inner life is so moving; it helps to bridge the distance 
> between us all.  My particular favourite is the walk south - I can so 
> clearly see you three and elephant in my mind's eye. Bird Rock is 
> shimmering there in the water and we watch it together.   I can't thank 
> you all enough for sharing this extraordinary time in your lives with 
> me.  And so pleased that Lorelei's picture featured in Cynthia's 
> birthday celebrations!   I love you all  Susan 
> 
> 
> 
>> ----Original Message----
> 
>> From: honey@honeywilliams.com
> 
>> Date: 07/12/2010 17:57 
> 
>> To: <fandfs@maborgias.com>
> 
>> Subj: [Fandfs] Cynthia, November, 2010
> 
>> 
> 
>> 
> 
>> 
> 
>> 
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Dear Friends and Family,
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> This is a two part letter.  The first section, "The Elephant in 
> the  
> 
>>> Room", is about the past few days.  The second section is a 
> general  
> 
>>> November Update.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> December 4, 2010  "The Elephant in the Room"
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> When she was a child living in Paris, Cynthia rode an elephant 
> when  
> 
>>> visiting the zoo.  For the past three days she has been calling 
> for  
> 
>>> the elephant to come and help her.  She inhabits the dreams state  
> 
>>> and the waking state at the same time, spending much of the time  
> 
>>> lying with her eyes closed, and often saying "help help, help me  
> 
>>> help me".   Need less to say, this is very distressing for those 
> of  
> 
>>> us near by, and we  say "what do you want help with, how can I 
> help  
> 
>>> you", trying all combinations of words to see if we can elicit a  
> 
>>> response that would provide us with a clue as to what was the 
> matter  
> 
>>> and what she needed.  Finally she made it clear that some of the  
> 
>>> time she was not in fact talking to us.  She said "it makes me so  
> 
>>> angry when you say what can I do to help, you can't help".  We 
> tell  
> 
>>> her that if we could bring her the fountain of youth we would do  
> 
>>> that, but we can't, because there is no fountain of youth.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> A few weeks ago CW went through a period of giving us a certain 
> look  
> 
>>> that seemed to say  that she really did not believe that we were  
> 
>>> doing everything that we could to help her.  It was a "just who 
> do  
> 
>>> you think you are kidding" look, and it made our blood run cold.  
> We  
> 
>>> were relieved when she moved from that anger into a wary 
> acceptance,  
> 
>>> which happened after her last bout of illness. Alcie Williams 
> Meyers  
> 
>>> was recently visiting, and on her leaving said something about  
> 
>>> seeing her the next time,  and Cynthia said that there may not be 
> a  
> 
>>> next time.  She said something similar to Linda Campbell, very  
> 
>>> factual, and without self pity.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Three days ago she told Molly that when she cried out "help help"  
> 
>>> she was not talking to us, but she was talking "to them."  Okay, 
> we  
> 
>>> thought, that's good to know, because the "help help" was hard 
> for  
> 
>>> us to bare.   Yesterday afternoon when I was sitting with her she  
> 
>>> spoke of a ship that was coming, but she could not yet make out 
> if  
> 
>>> anyone was on the ship, but she zeroed in on who "them" were, 
> saying  
> 
>>> she was asking a "Divine Creature for help."  Bring it on, I 
> thought.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> When we sit with her and chat we tell her all the wise things 
> that  
> 
>>> we read in books that are appropriate to say to people who are  
> in  
> 
>>> the process of letting go of their bodies. We talk about death 
> and  
> 
>>> dying in many ways and on many levels.   One day she said to me,  
> 
>>> "when the time comes I will sneak out pretty fast.  But what 
> about  
> 
>>> my shoes?" Her soul, she tells me, wants to stay here, and is not  
> 
>>> yet ready to go. She worries that she does not know how to die, 
> or  
> 
>>> know what she needs to do in order to move into the transition 
> out  
> 
>>> of her body.  So she calls for help.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Yesterday afternoon Cynthia  was calling out to Laidlaw, calling 
> for  
> 
>>> Laidlaw to help help her. He had been there, she said, she had 
> seen  
> 
>>> him, "Laidlaw, I don't know how to cross to where you are, can 
> you  
> 
>>> please help me.  We need you Laidlaw, don't go away". This 
> afternoon  
> 
>>> she could no longer see him, but she could smell the smoke from 
> his  
> 
>>> pipe, and she went on for some time calling out "Laidlaw, 
> Laidlaw".   
> 
>>> You know, I never would have guessed that Laidlaw would be the 
> one  
> 
>>> to help her over to the other side, you just never know where 
> help  
> 
>>> may come from when you are really in need.  I did suggest that  
> 
>>> perhaps Abby-Lou would make a better guide.  "No", she said,  
> 
>>> "Laidlaw is much gentler, and he really knows his way out of the  
> 
>>> woods"
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> And the elephant.  The elephant has been a reappearing theme 
> these  
> 
>>> last days.  And as I was leaving yesterday afternoon she told me  
> 
>>> that  "we have to make an elephant and ride it downtown."  When I  
> 
>>> returned this evening Laidlaw was not around, but the elephant 
> was  
> 
>>> still in play.  So we made an elephant, and now we have this  
> 
>>> elephant. But how to cope with the elephant?  Much discussion 
> about  
> 
>>> this. The elephant was the right size, the right size being  a  
> 
>>> medium sized elephant.  I told her I would be happy to take care 
> of  
> 
>>> the elephant.  But things were not right, maybe the elephant was 
> too  
> 
>>> big to ride.  She wanted to take the elephant for a walk but it  
> 
>>> scared her.  So we compromised, and said that both Molly and 
> Honey  
> 
>>> would go with her and that we would just walk along side of the  
> 
>>> elephant.  But where did she want to walk?  She wanted to "walk 
> out  
> 
>>> of the Highlands".  And in which direction?  "South", she said.  
> So  
> 
>>> we began our walk south.  We walked past the Lloyds house, past 
> the  
> 
>>> Doner's  and past the gas station.  Then past the Duttons house 
> and  
> 
>>> the James' house.  Past the Highlands Inn and Mrs Bigglow's 
> house,   
> 
>>> the Mastens house.  "Oh, and Dr McDougal's house" she said, then  
> 
>>> said, "no, its too far off the highway". And we passed the 
> Westons  
> 
>>> house (we also passed Harry Leon Wilsons house, but it went  
> 
>>> unmentioned) and John O'Sheas house, and the turn off to the 
> Flavins  
> 
>>> house. It was a fine walk we took, remembering each house and 
> each  
> 
>>> family as we moved along, walking south along the highway, out of  
> 
>>> the HIghlands.  It made me cry.  She was tired out after the 
> walk,  
> 
>>> and ready to go to her bedroom to sleep.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> When I told Sarah about the elephant, she sent me the following e- 
> 
>>> mail:
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> I loved hearing about the elephant! It never occurred to me, but 
> of  
> 
>>> course! - a power animal! A totem! It is worth noting that 
> according  
> 
>>> to legend, when an elephant feels it is time to die, they start  
> 
>>> walking, walking, knowing somehow instinctively the way to the  
> 
>>> proverbial 'elephant graveyard.' What better animal to lead CW to  
> 
>>> the other side then one that knows the way by heart?  Elephants 
> are  
> 
>>> the only animals other than humans to have a recorded death 
> ritual,  
> 
>>> and  elephants have been seen sitting shiva for days at a time.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> As for the dreams...when I was there visiting the dreams were 
> almost  
> 
>>> always filled with people. "Those people" or "These people." My 
> take  
> 
>>> is that everyone on the other side is waving her onward, that her  
> 
>>> parents and brothers and friends and everyone who has passed on  
> 
>>> already come to her and talk with her and want her to come with  
> 
>>> them. But she is scared and confused, and often she feels trapped  
> 
>>> between these two worlds, her dreams often involving some type of  
> 
>>> entrapment from which she cannot escape. She told me about a 
> light  
> 
>>> she saw out on bird rock. She worried she could not go to it 
> because  
> 
>>> of the rule about no one going to bird rock since it is a 
> preserve,  
> 
>>> a sanctuary. I told her we could bend the rules for her, that she  
> 
>>> was the exception, but after some thought she changed her mind 
> and  
> 
>>> wanted to stay where she was. I hope the elephant can lead her  
> 
>>> towards that light.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> 
> ********************************************************************************************
> 
>>>   November Update
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> What with elephants and sailing ships, there is never a dull 
> moment  
> 
>>> here in the Highlands.   The month of November was eventful from  
> 
>>> start to finish.  The month began  with rain,  the world series, 
> and  
> 
>>> Cynthia's birthday.   Cynthia was in good spirits as her beloved  
> 
>>> Giants  scored victory after victory in the play-offs.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> On Cynthia’s 95th birthday the weather was gloriously  warm and  
> 
>>> sunny. A small cadre of friends and family gathered to celebrate  
> 
>>> with her and watch the final game of the series. She was cheerful  
> 
>>> and lucid most of the day, but by afternoon she was fading, and  
> had  
> 
>>> retired to her bedroom by the sixth inning. We watched the final  
> 
>>> innings in the living room (it still seems strange to have a  
> 
>>> television in the living room) and we rushed into her room to 
> bring  
> 
>>> her news of the big win. “The Giants won!” we cried, bursting in 
> the  
> 
>>> bedroom.  "I just don't believe it" she told us. She was in 
> sleepy  
> 
>>> disbelief that after all these years of faithful fandom the good 
> ol’  
> 
>>> Giants had finally won. Over the next few days we were able to  
> 
>>> remind her again and again of the news of the win, and bring a 
> smile  
> 
>>> every time we did.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> The night  of the Giants big victory Sarah and Honey stayed up 
> til  
> 
>>> all hours following the celebrations going on in the city of San  
> 
>>> Francisco.  Sarah was feeling a little sorry to not be up in the  
> 
>>> city, as she had come home for Cynthia's birthday, so we did our  
> 
>>> best to take in the evening's goings on "virtually".  We followed 
> a  
> 
>>> link someone had twittered that provided us with the ongoing 
> chatter  
> 
>>> of the online stream of the SF police scanner.  Through the 
> tweets  
> 
>>> posted by people celebrating on the streets of SF we were as good 
> as  
> 
>>> there, taking part in the commandeering of the fire truck at 
> Mission  
> 
>>> and 23 and watching the fires being set in the streets. Following  
> 
>>> updates on Twitter and Facebook we could follow the news that no  
> 
>>> networks were bringing to us.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> The next day I was describing this amazing "social networking" to  
> 
>>> Cynthia, explaining how we "virtually were there in SF".  She  
> 
>>> listened, and after some thought  she said  "I wonder what  
> 
>>> Shakespeare would have made of all of this?"  We agreed that Will  
> 
>>> would probably  be making good use of the various social 
> networking  
> 
>>> sites and social media platforms.  She may be confused, and 
> deeply  
> 
>>> confused at times, but  that interesting mind of CW's still goes 
> on  
> 
>>> amazing us..
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Who could have asked for a better present than to have the Giants  
> 
>>> win the world series in celebration of CW's 95th!  A hardy Thank 
> You  
> 
>>> to the Giants and to everyone who sent Cynthia birthday 
> greetings,  
> 
>>> which arrived in many forms and formats.  All tokens were  
> 
>>> appreciated, and Molly showed them to Cynthia a few at a time, 
> and  
> 
>>> several times over.  Each time they were new to her and enjoyed 
> over  
> 
>>> and over.  On Cw's birthday we received a photo of Susan Clifford  
> 
>>> Rayner's new granddaughter, a beautiful smiling baby, and this 
> photo  
> 
>>> juxtaposed with 95-year-old Cynthia made a complete circle of life.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> CW sleeps more now then she has in the past few months, snoozing  
> 
>>> most of the day and waking up at short intervals for meals or a  
> 
>>> brief visit with whoever is passing through the Highlands. Some 
> days  
> 
>>> she is lucid, although most days she seems stuck between her  
> 
>>> sleeping and waking state, in a sort of half-dream. There are 
> often  
> 
>>> reoccurring themes in these dreams, and they are all too often  
> 
>>> stressful or fretful ones.  We do our best to communicate with 
> her  
> 
>>> on these days, although it is often frustrating to her as well as 
> us  
> 
>>> when she cannot explain what she means or needs. There is 
> confusion  
> 
>>> along with the  forgetting.  She will often have a thought, begin 
> to  
> 
>>> express the thought, and then forget whatever it was and drift 
> away  
> 
>>> from us.  Very frustrating.  Or she will have the thought, begin 
> to  
> 
>>> express the thought, and not be able to find the words.  
> Sometimes,  
> 
>>> if we are in a context, we can help her to complete the thought 
> or  
> 
>>> locate the missing word.
> 
>> 
> 
>>>   One afternoon as she lay on the hospital bed in the living 
> room  
> 
>>> gazing out to sea, she started to speak, "I love, I love, I  
> 
>>> love...."  Her words   came slowly,  "Yes", I said, "You love, 
> you  
> 
>>> love, you love..."  Suddenly she made the connection to her 
> words,  
> 
>>> "I love that rock!" she said.
> 
>>> and she smiled.  "I love that rock".  Bird rock was shining in 
> the  
> 
>>> sun.  So I spoke to her about the rock, how every day we looked 
> out  
> 
>>> at that         beautiful huge rock, how the sun lit up the rock 
> in  
> 
>>> the early morning and we could tell the time as well as the 
> weather  
> 
>>> and the time of the  year when we looked at that faithful old 
> rock.   
> 
>>> Her view of Pt Lobos and the ocean, the changing sky, this view  
> 
>>> sustains her through  her long days of dreaming and waking as she  
> 
>>> prepares for her passage.  (Ah! and if only we knew where that  
> 
>>> passage would lead us.  The great mystery.  She is often 
> frightened  
> 
>>> of this unknowing.  We remind her that she has lived a good life 
> and  
> 
>>> has been loving and kind,  We remind her that everyone crosses 
> the  
> 
>>> lonely valley by themselves.)
> 
>> 
> 
>> 
> 
>>> Cynthia took sick the week before Thanksgiving, having become too  
> 
>>> weak to inhale her respiratory medicine. There were a few bad 
> night  
> 
>>> when Cynthia’s was having a lot of difficulty breathing and we 
> all  
> 
>>> feared for the worst, and braced for a very different type of  
> 
>>> Thanksgiving. Luckily, thanks to Molly’s tireless attentiveness 
> and  
> 
>>> our wonderful crew of in-home care givers, we were able to switch 
> CW  
> 
>>> to other medication that seems to have alleviated some of the  
> 
>>> respiratory distress.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Despite this, Thanksgiving was joyful, and the house was bursting 
> at  
> 
>>> the seams with friends, family, and food. With record low  
> 
>>> temperatures hovering just above freezing, it was certainly a  
> 
>>> Thanksgiving to remember. With the house full of people, we 
> spilled  
> 
>>> out of the house and into the garden for the actual meal, 
> stringing  
> 
>>> Christmas lights and lighting "Mr Heaters"  to transform the 
> patio  
> 
>>> into a festive dining room. We assured our foreign visitors that  
> 
>>> this was as authentic a Thanksgiving as you could ask for, eating  
> 
>>> under the stars and in the cold. CW was still exhausted from 
> being  
> 
>>> under the weather a few days before, and stayed down the hall in 
> her  
> 
>>> warm room, where we were all able to come and pay her a visit.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> We had what we called "a relaxed Thanksgiving", having agreed not 
> to  
> 
>>> let the small stuff upset us.  And in fact it was very relaxed.  
> So  
> 
>>> relaxed that when my oven was failing I just turned it off and  
> 
>>> abandoned the turkey until the next day.  Luckily there were two  
> 
>>> other turkeys. The brave "20-somethings" sitting outdoors in the  
> 
>>> patio made for a luxurious amount of space for the rest of us 
> dining  
> 
>>> in the living room.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Of course the big change this year was our missing Cynthia at her  
> 
>>> usual place at the table.  We felt her absence deeply,  but we  
> 
>>> survived, we did it without her, and it was just fine. Molly, our  
> 
>>> Thanksgiving General, was elated that "we did it!". We toasted  
> 
>>> Cynthia, and we toasted our community of family, friends and 
> loved  
> 
>>> ones, feeling very blessed to be together surrounded by such love.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Most everyone reading this will remember being at a party in the  
> 
>>> Highlands, where the music was loud and went on until the wee  
> 
>>> hours.  Cynthia was never bothered by this, which I always felt 
> to  
> 
>>> be a miracle.  But no longer. During much of the long weekend she  
> 
>>> grumbled in her bedroom, wishing  "all of these people would go  
> 
>>> home."  We did our best to keep our voices down during dinner, 
> and  
> 
>>> the after dinner dancing was moved next door to my house, which  
> 
>>> worked out very well
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> When Cynthia took ill just before Thanksgiving she was given a  
> 
>>> course of prednisone.  This was a blessing for her physical 
> health,  
> 
>>> but after 4 or 5 days the psychotic side effect of prednisone 
> reared  
> 
>>> its ugly head and there were some very long and unpleasant days.  
> I  
> 
>>> was very happy that Sarah was here, as her patience is far 
> greater  
> 
>>> than mine or Molly's, 2010 having been a tough year on us all.  
> But  
> 
>>> what I started to write is that in the past few days we have 
> noticed  
> 
>>> a big improvement in Cynthia's mental functioning.  The 
> prednisone  
> 
>>> seems to have mended her neural pathways, or at least improved 
> her  
> 
>>> mental functioning.  The past few days CW has been able to think  
> 
>>> more clearly  and express complete thoughts.  She is being able 
> to  
> 
>>> find her words. And this is a major blessing for us all, because 
> as  
> 
>>> she is moving closer and closer to her spirit body taking leave 
> of  
> 
>>> her physical body, we are able to talk together in meaningful 
> way,  
> 
>>> meaningful for both Cynthia and ourselves.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Last week the Hospice Chaplain came to speak with  us, to discuss  
> 
>>> what we could expect in the days and weeks to come, and what  
> 
>>> arrangements needed to be made. It is impossible  to think of CW 
> not  
> 
>>> being here, perhaps because the Highlands is so steeped in her  
> 
>>> ineffable spirit that she will never really be gone; that every  
> 
>>> room, every inch, every flower pot, every teaspoon, has something 
> of  
> 
>>> Cynthia in it. Never has someone become so intertwined with a 
> place  
> 
>>> as CW is with her home, here at the Carmel Institute.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> And so we remain, camped out on the borderlands with our mother 
> and  
> 
>>> grandmother, awaiting the crossing.
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> Much Love,
> 
>>> Honey and Sarah Williams
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> PS. A quick update on Sarah.  She has recovered from the surgery 
> she  
> 
>>> had in September and we are all relieved to have it behind us. 
> She  
> 
>>> has found temporary employment in Palo Alto at a travel site 
> start- 
> 
>>> up.  When she was recently home for a week and was going through 
> a  
> 
>>> box of old papers,  she found  journals relating stories of  
> 
>>> afternoons at Grandmas, of walks on the beach and the sea air,  
> 
>>> stories that told how Cynthia had made a sanctuary for us all.  
> When  
> 
>>> I was telling CW about the stories Sarah had found, and reminding  
> 
>>> her that she had opened her heart and made a home for so many  
> 
>>> people, she thought about this for a moment, then said, "Well you  
> 
>>> know, it's because I really like people".
> 
>>> 
> 
>>> 
> 
>> 
> 
>> _______________________________________________
> 
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> 
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> 
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>> 
> 
> 
> 
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