Another one bites the dust... -- Queen
Friday was one of those days that is actually worth writing about. December arrived harsh and chilling. Not the weather, of course. The first of December was about as nice a day as one could possibly ask for in San Francisco, in the middle of winter. It was clear and sunny, a little brisk, but certainly not cold. It was what happened that put ice in my veins.
It started out okay. I went swimming as usual, then worked until it was time to meet Dad for lunch. We stopped first at the DMV to get him a new ID card -- his last one disappeared with his wallet when the Witch took him out the last time. After that we went over to West Portal to the Village Grill, a nice little lunch spot. They're a little pricey, and the menu is a bit limited, but it's always enjoyable and the food is good.
It was later that things went sour. I picked up Rachel from school and she let me know that one of her kids had tried to kill himself -- he told her that he wanted to die. Remember, now, that Rachel teaches first grade. Six years old and wants to end it all.
After we got home, I went back to my office to finish up some work while Rachel rested. Later that night was the NCRC holiday party and she needed a few Z's. The party was a lot of fun, in spite of it all. We met some new folks, got re-acquainted with some old friends, and generally had a good time.
It was at the Pyramid Brewery, a huge place over near REI in Berkeley. After a bit of a challenge finding parking, we made our way to where the RoverFolk were. We chatted with a bunch of folks, had some beer and appetizers, and sat down to the main meal. Rachel had a vegetarian tortellini, which turned out to completely inedible -- even by me! It was so overcooked that the pasta was just mush, and the filling was unrecognizable. Luckily, I had ordered the chicken, so Rachel ate that.
We sat with Morgan and his wife, and a couple who had just found out about NCRC that day. They were disco yuppies, but a couple of trips with the gonzo crowd (like Morgan) and they'd be Grizzly Adams types in no time. He was already talking about getting an old series 88" for the more damaging trips. We talked about the Mud Run, and I think if he could have gotten away with it, he would have taken their new (expensive!) disco on that.
Anyway, I drank too much beer (two, but I'm allergic) and Rachel even had a good time. The food wasn't even close to being worth the cost, but the company certainly was. In spite of the news we'd gotten earlier.
Just before we were to leave for the party, Rachel got the call that her cousin had passed away. She had fought long and hard against the cancer, but in the end, it won. She lived a lot longer than the doctors told her she would, and that was mostly due to her refusal to die.
Bev's number one priority in life was her second son, Doug. He encountered some complications during birth which resulted in a slight disability. Bev did everything for him, including staying alive.
She also did a lot for herself. She got a doctorate in psychology and specialized in chronic pain. She did a lot of hiking and was very active in the Sierra Club. She loved her Ford Mustang, and her dogs.
And she did a lot for me. She was the one who checked out all the shrinks for me, and encouraged me to get some assistance with the issues I was facing. She was very supportive of everything I was going through, and everything I wanted to accomplish. She also helped me understand my parents more, allowing me to understand, and perhaps even accept, my mother's odd behaviours. She gave me new insight into my Dad's issues, especially as they related to raising his kids.
She and I had a lot of very enjoyable discussions, about my family, my life, my business, my therapy, the world in general. I looked forward to any kind of commuting in the car, as I would use that as an excuse to give her a call and chat for half an hour.
Unfortunately, I met her late in her life, and we both had ongoing responsibilities, so we didn't talk as much as I would -- especially now -- have liked. Still, I remember the times we did have, and she lives on in the effects she had on my -- and others' -- life. She was everything one could want in a friend: Fun, caring, intelligent, , confident, except for one thing: long-lived.
Good-bye, Bev. I'm going to miss you!