NO END TO PASSION

Somewhere in the desert of New Mexico

Last week I traveled to New Mexico and spent a week with my sister. The purpose of the trip was to drive to Santa Fe and attend the Indian Market. For the last two years I have driven the thousand miles to Santa Fe to sell my paintings. This year I did not sell at the market but decided to go and experience it as a "tourist". I'm so glad I did. I was not able to walk around and visit all the artists in previous years as the market strongly suggests you be in your booth at all times. But this time I did and saw so many beautiful things and met so many talented people.

A few years ago Kristy helped me to prepare for my first market. I set up my booth in the living room and we hung all the paintings. She had a good eye. She also helped me name each piece. She took her time and made sure everything was ready to go. Unfortunately she had a race during the same weekend but we often talked about her coming with me in the future.

Now more than ever I think of our conversations about the future. Her passion - triathlon competition, and my passion - painting. We were committed to helping each other to reach our goals. When I say reach I really mean surpass - both of us knew we would never be satisfied but would always strive to achieve more. You can never reach the end of your passion. It is always there to drive you on. It's what keeps you going.

As my sister and I drove through the vast New Mexico desert we spoke about Kristy. She was present with us every step of the way. I can never forget her strength - I find it is always there if I open my heart and listen.

ENDURANCE

Kristy told me not too long ago that I should read Alfred Lansing's book "Endurance". I finished it a few days ago - I could not put it down! This is the true story of Ernest Shackleton's incredible 1914 voyage through the Antarctic Ocean. It is a story so full of seemingly insurmountable obstacles that you cannot help but feel the agony of those who battled the ice and wind for 10 months while being stranded in an ocean of frozen bergs. The whole journey lasted a year and is pieced together from the logs of the men who were there. This book was written in 1959 which allowed the author to interview all the surviving members. What I read made me realize we are capable of super human feats when when we feel there is no other choice.

Kristy knew about pain and endurance. She talked about how she liked it when the pain came so she could enjoy the challenge of riding it through. She wanted to push her body to the brink of what it was capable of and then keep going. She loved this book - and I'll admit I did too. I even took it to the gym with me and read it while on the bike. I just couldn't put it down!

Endurance. Don't give up. I could feel this message from Kristy loud and clear. And I won't give up. I will keep on. I will face the wind and the rain, the pain and the heartache and I will keep going. Somewhere out there Kristy knows and she is cheering me on. At least her spirit is because it can never die. It is alive in me.

LIVING AND DYING

In Toni Morrison's book, Kristy underlined the following:

"But if I'm caught I'll just die earlier than I'm supposed to - not better than I'm supposed to. And how I die or when doesn't interest me. What I die for does. Its the same as what I live for."

Kristy died on her bike doing what she lived for. And in the end it was what she died for as well. I think of you out there somewhere, one with the wind. You are still racing - and in my mind you are strong and focused. You never take your eyes off the goal. You never think "I can't do this."

I remember the story you told me of your first Ironman competition in Hawaii. The wind was so strong and fierce. As you rode your bike over the barren lava fields, it blasted against you mile after mile. People were being blown off the road it was so bad. In the back of your mind you were looking forward to making the turn and having the wind at your back. But when you finally made the turn and started back the wind shifted! It slammed you hard - right in the face. At first you were stunned. Then you told me something I will never forget. You lifted both your arms and with clenched fists you yelled at the top of your lungs, "Bring it on!!" You said you were laughing out loud like a deranged person.

I can see you now. And now that I am heading into the wind I need your strength. I have never loved so much nor have I ever lost so much. Strange that you should have taught me both. With your short life you have shown me both how to live and how to die.

SWEET AND SOUR

The berries are ripening at an alarming rate.  I am tending them carefully, for these are the berries Kristy and I planted together.  They were running rampant in the garden so we dug them up and planted them in large planters.  The first year they didn't give much fruit, but now in their 4th year - they are giants.

Kristy was so protective of these berries.  She loved their sweet, tart flavor. I think of this each time I put one in my mouth.  Each time I pass by I pick one.  I don't bother to wash it or even inspect it. We use no pesticides. If I eat a spider, I guess I'll......  How does that little ditty go? 

I think of you and let the sweet-sour taste sting my tongue. We are in the garden together now. You are telling me something funny. I love to hear you laugh. You are happy and confident. You show me something. Now you are going. But I wait, for you will surely return. I see you everywhere.  

THE PURPLE ORCHID

Hi Karen,

A few days ago Elliot came in the house with an orchid for me; it is unique and different from other orchids I have seen. Elliot said he had been talking to you earlier in the day and somehow, I was brought up in the conversation. But I must backtrack.

Elliot loves Kristy and misses her deeply. A couple of months ago, he showed me a portrait that you had recently painted of Kristy; she is wearing a cape with a collar that stands up and frames her face. It is a beautiful portrait of her. Elliot told me that Kristy didn't like receiving flowers, but once he had found this beautiful purple orchid and had to get it for her.

Anyway, the day he spoke to you he stopped by Trader Joe's for a few things and there, in the store, was the exact same purple orchid he had bought for Kristy...it was a sign, so he bought it for me. It's an unusual orchid, one that I have not seen at the florist. It is such a deep color purple, that at first, it almost looks black.

I've put the orchid in the east window of my bathroom and have thought about Elliot, Kristy and you every day since. As this orchid has blossomed and opened its wings to the sun I suddenly realized that its outstretched collar looks just like the collar you painted on Kristy's portrait! It's amazing, the same feeling I had when I saw the collar you painted on Kristy is the same feeling I have had watching this orchid open up to frame the body of this precious, unique flower. You painted Kristy as the beautiful orchid that she is!

I continue to keep you in prayer....

Jeannie
Elliot's Mom

MY SIX FEET UNDER

This memory came to me last night before I finally fell asleep.  It was a discussion I had with Kristy about the beauty and shortness of life.  

We both loved to watch the program "Six Feet Under".  It was about a very unconventional family and their struggles individually and with each other.  I remember telling Kristy she needed to watch the last episode with me.  I had already seen it but it had been for me an epiphany.  I remember I actually used these words.

The scene was of the youngest daughter lying in bed. Only she was now an old woman and she was dying.  At the same time she was looking at all the beautiful photos of her family surrounding her on the walls.  Each one held a separate memory.  She was old and frail but we could still see it was her.  The light shinning in her eyes was the same light as when she was younger.

The scene suddenly changed to her as a young woman. She had approached a pivotal point in her life. She had made her decision and she was in her car speeding away... She had decided to leave home, launch herself into the unknown, and become what she knew she had to be. It was a great sacrifice to leave those she loved behind. It was a decision that changed the whole scope of her life. She was crying and smiling at the same time. The music was haunting and beautiful.

As she sped away, you could see her again as the old woman lying in bed. Her life had passed by just as quickly as that speeding car. It was here and gone in the blink of an eye.  This was my epiphany. It had never hit me so hard, how truly short life is. My body felt tingly all over and I knew I had caught a glimpse of something so large that it made me feel a part of everything. As if I wasn't here or there but everywhere.

Time is so very short.  I don't know what lies ahead.  But I know I am speeding towards it so very, very fast. I hope I have time to review all my precious memories before departing, just like this woman did. But if not I know I am the sum of them all. "Because I bear in me not my little life, but all the lives, and I walk steadily forward because I have a thousand eyes." (Pablo Neruda)

BABY TEETH

I am working in the garden this morning.  As I attempt to pull the weeds I was suddenly reliving a past experience with Kristy.  It was so sweet, I just had to come inside and make sure it was written down.

When Kristy was about 4 or 5 she was losing lots of her baby teeth.  One day she came running down the stairs yelling, "Mommy, Mommy - LOOK!  I lost my tooth!"  She jammed it in my face and said, "I am going to put it under my pillow for the tooth fairy right now!"  She turned and ran up the stairs as fast as her legs could go.  Just as she reached the top she tripped and fell to her knees.  Luckily she wasn't hurt, but as she reached out to grab the stair railing she dropped her precious cargo.

There were many tears.  And we looked up and down the stairs for what seemed like an eternity.  No tooth.  Heart broken, she said, "Do you think I could just draw a picture of it?"  

Well, being an experienced "tooth fairy" I had a sudden idea.  I went to my jewelry box and dug through the various treasures my children had given to me throughout the years.  I finally found what I was looking for.  Way in the back was my stash of baby teeth.  Surprisingly I must have had at least ten.  And as I grabbed one I was hoping Kristy would not realize it was an impostor.

I ran back down the stairs and yelled, "Kristy I found your tooth!"  She came pounding down the stairs so quickly I thought for a moment she might fall again.  Grabbing it out of my hand, she inspected it and pronounced it her tooth.  She had the biggest grin on her face.  I can see it now.  She turned and walked back up the stairs as if she was carrying a glass full of water.  I don't think she breathed until she got to the top.

Later that evening before going to bed I crept into her darkened room.  I replaced her treasure with four quarters which was the tooth fairy's going rate at the time.  As I slowly left the room I remember smiling to myself.  I couldn't wait to see her face in the morning.

FIERY RED PEPPERS

The Marion Berries Kristy and I planted
are just starting to flower. Soon they will
bring forth large juicy fruit. We loved to
eat them right off the bush.


I worked in our garden today Kristy. I saw you
everywhere, and when the sun went down I
came inside and wrote these words to you.


I step out onto the deck and you are there
Bending over the boards as you sand each one
I step into the house and you are here
Riding a floor sander in jerky pirouettes
I'll never forget what you said
"There's allot of love in these floors"
When I sit in the garden I see you still
On your knees laying stone upon stone
So proud of your fiery red peppers

Now
I close my eyes
And step back into my world
Your memory is very much alive
Yet I am very much
alone

A GOOD LONG TIME

Kristy and Jack

I was watching the dogs play outside a few minutes ago. I suddenly remembered Kristy asking me shortly before she died, "How long do you think Jack will live?" I can remember it as if it was yesterday. It was a beautiful day and we were enjoying the sun in the back yard.

For those of you who don't know, Jack is our rescue dog. Kristy had only recently lost her childhood pet, a little terrier named Sonya. When Sonya died at the ripe old age of 18, Kristy was overcome with grief. For years she doted over her and tended to her every need.

Having lost so much, Kristy instinctively thought of the inevitable when letting her heart go out to our new dog, Jack. I reassured her by responding, "I think he will live a good long time, just like Sonya." She was hugging Jack at that moment and she never looked up. Without missing a beat she said,"Good."

Love it seems is never so precious as when it has been lost. I will never be able to replace Kristy. I think I will spend the rest of my life looking for something to ease the loss. I am sure it will take a good long time.

Strange that all future love will forever be altered by Kristy's existence. I will be reminded of my love for her each time I try to love again.

REMINDERS

Kristy at 9 years in her favorite outfit

There are reminders of you everywhere
Your hair brush
Your books
Your socks
You once gave them a life
They touched
Your hair
Your skin
Your feet
They went on journeys
Ran new trails
Brought forth new horizons
But they sit alone now
A mere shadow
A shell
An outline
A chasm
I put them on
I read them
I hold them close
But they cannot say
They cannot know
They cannot feel
Today
They mock me
with
one
long
goodbye

Dear Kristy, I wrote this poem for you this morning. I was cleaning out a closet and found a book I had been reading; it seems a life time ago. I was keeping my place with a small photo of you. I remember when you and I were discussing the book and we both had a laugh when I showed you the photo. In it you are wearing a very miss-matched outfit. You told me you loved the pants as well as the sweater. It's so true, I remember you wearing them all the time. I wish I had them now.

MOTHERHOOD JOURNEY

Kristy wrote her name in the cement along with the
rest of the family. It kept the fence up for many
years. We often looked at this reminder of our
early years and reminisced.

I wrote this poem many years ago for my mother. She was so important in my life at the time. Sadly she now suffers from Alzheimer's and our lives have been changed forever. When I was Kristy's age I turned to my mother when I had problems so big they seemed insurmountable. Now when I read this poem it seems to have been written for me.

The Motherhood Journey

Motherhood is like a long journey.
You pack everything a wise woman needs.
You give up everything a strong woman wants.

At some point you look back across the years.
Across the fields of joy and sorrow.
Across the years and moments of
love...sorrow...and forgiveness.

When the journey started
you wanted only to be a mother.
Now you want only
to be loved.

When I was 18 I married. I could hardly wait to be a mother. This was my fondest dream at the time. The love and joy I felt for each of my four children grew even more powerful as they became as adults. I can now say, 36 years later, I know of no greater love and no greater sorrow. As much as I have loved, I have now also grieved. It is the memory of this love which is now keeping me alive.

A REMEMBRANCE

Kristy, Bancroft Elementary School

I would like to post this message from a former elementary school classmate of Kristy's. It reminds me there were so many others who loved and admired her - from grade school on up.

My God what a tragedy. I just found out last night. I grew up with Kristy in San Leandro and went to Roosevelt and Bancroft with her.

Dear Kristy,

It has been well well over a decade since I last saw you Kristy but I feel that the world has lost someone great. Reading that you have achieved such things in your life comes as no surprise what so ever. Actually totally expected to hear that you are a champion athlete. You were always the fastest girl in the playground and was faster than just about every one of us boy's too.

Being a athlete was your destiny. The world feels like a smaller place just knowing you are no longer with us. Kristy, you loom large in my memories of my childhood. You did touch many lives more than you probably ever realised. I will always remember you Kristy. Will always remember you. -


Chris Baldwin,
London,UK (grew up in San Leandro)

WAYS TO GO

Kristy turns 21

Kristy turned 21 years old and we took this photo of her when she worked at the local Chevy's. She learned such empathy for others while waiting on tables. She identified with the cooks and the bus boys, and all those working so hard to support their families. But she also learned to dislike rude and pretentious people. Especially those who made a point of trying to make others feel bad.

She told me something after a particularly frustrating night waiting tables. She knew the large party she was serving was not going to leave her a tip. But she served them just as if they were the most important people in the place.

Kristy had so many stories of working at Chevy's. She worked in restaurants for years to have time during the day for training. As the years went by she added house painting and general restoration work to her repertoire. She was the one who refinished the back deck and helped me pave the driveway. And of course she put a new roof on the house by herself. There was nothing she could not do when she put her mind to it.

Whenever Kristy was driving and I was in the car with her I always felt safe. I knew she would be able to handle anything. But I guess sometimes even though you take all the precautions in the world, something can happen to throw a wrench into things. You never think it's going to happen to someone you love.

I remember showing Kristy a page I had torn out of The National Geographic, called "Ways to Go". It had the top 20 or so ways people die in the United States. Number 1 on the list, after heart disease, cancer and stroke, was by motor vehicle accident. This was listed as 1 in 84. After this came Suicide at 1 in 119. Bicycle accident was 1 in 4,919. At the end of the list was "total odds of dying, any cause: 1 in 1".

She took a few minutes and looked at the list. She handed it back to me with a grin on her face and said, "Mom, why are you looking at this stuff?" I really didn't have a good answer. It was a bright sunny day and we were sitting in the kitchen together. I kept the information for some unknown reason and happened upon it today.

I think I might throw it away now.

YOU SURROUND ME

Denmark, 2006

NEW 5 minute video on YouTube of Kristy. Click on the title "You Surround Me"

I'LL BE RIGHT THERE

When I got back from the store yesterday I wrote this for you. There's something about going to the store now that is very difficult. We used to pick up things for each other all the time. It became a habit to call you and ask if you needed anything, or to see if you were waiting for me at the house. Now, when I get in the car a feeling of sadness descends upon me. I think I would rather be at home.

There comes a certain hour
when I start looking for you.
You used to appear each day
I would call and you would answer:
"I was just passing by, I'll be right there."

We had this routine worked out
it seemed to me so natural.
Each day at the same hour
a small voice would speak to me:
"She's just passing by, she'll be right here."

I can't hold you in my arms now
or tell you of my sorrow.
But I hope you hear, my love
a voice is whispering in your ear.
"I'm just passing by, I'll be right there."

REFRIGERATOR CHAMP

Kristy landing a knock-out punch

I found this little picture in Kristy's box of letters and mementos. She had saved quite a few over the years. This particular one made me remember the time I was creating these scenes as little magnets for her refrigerator. She thought it was so funny to see herself as a boxer in the ring. When other people saw it they would say to her, "When were you a boxer?"

With Kristy you never really knew - she had done so many things. Many of them seemed nearly impossible to imagine. Like the time she got on her motorcycle and decided to ride across the whole United States with nothing but a tent and a backpack. At night she would stop by the side of the road and cook her meal. She ended up running smack dab into a tornado and had to make other arrangements. I'll never forget the phone call. "Mom, um, my motorcycle is totalled by the side of the road. Would you help me to get back home?"

Now I am the one stuck by the side of the road. My heart will wait forever to hear her voice.

Today's run - 6 miles at the lake. Today the rain stopped and it was sunny again!

SISTERS

Laurissa and her sister Kristy

Laurissa is Kristy's older sister. When the girls were young, people actually thought they were twins, even though they were born two years apart. Laurissa was always a concerned and doting big sister. She taught Kristy how to hold a pencil for the first time. She read her books before she was able to read for herself. She showed her how to get dressed and to make the bed.

As the two of them grew they continued to share a bed well into grade school. Of course this wasn't always easy for two young girls to do. I remember many nights listening to them fight over the covers and yelling at the top of my lungs, "Don't make me come in there!" As the years flew by, Laurissa grew up to be a petite woman weighing barely 100 pounds. Kristy grew up with what she called "elephant bones". Maybe because she weighed around 11 pounds when she was born!

Both girls grew up strong, healthy and wildly intelligent. Today I not only mourn the loss of my youngest daughter Kristy, but I mourn Laurissa's loss of Kristy as well. I wish I could take it away - that they could once again laugh and giggle the way they always did when they saw each other. Even though they had become adults they revelled in the closeness only sisters can share. I wouldn't even mind if they made fun of me or tried to beat me in a silly little game of "I spy with my little eye".

I didn't call Laurissa as much as I could have. The day I called to tell her about Kristy's death, she was so happy when she answered the phone. I am so sorry sweetie. I wish I could take those terrible words back. I wish I could stop time. I wish I could have you both beside me. I feel guilty that I still have my own sister. A loss such as yours is truly indescribable.

When I see you now, you embody all that is beautiful in my life. You have so much of your sister in you and it shows all the time. But you are unique, a jewel of infinite beauty, and I am so much better for having known you. We have grown very close through all our suffering and grief. I am dreaming of the day when we can again dance and celebrate life together.

Today's run: Instead of running today I walked the lake with my 20 lb. weighted vest. I saw the solitary swan again, floating silently in the cold water.

YOU SHOULD DO IT!

Kristy living her dream

I took something else away from a recent interview with Nikki Giovanni (see entries for February 18, 19).

Giovanni spoke about the difference between her mother and her grandmother. One thing she said brought back a vivid memory of a recurring conversation I would have with Kristy. Giovanni was close to both her mother and her grandmother, but when faced with life altering decisions, her mother would say to her "You can do it". Her grandmother would say to her, "You should do it".

Implicit in these affirmations is that one confirms the ability to make something happen, the other the need to make it happen. When Kristy and I would talk about making changes in our life she would say to me, "You should DO IT". We all like to have a pep talk with someone who knows we can do it, but what action we chose is really up to us alone.

Maybe the difference is not readily apparent. What Giovanni emphasized is that her grandmother wanted to affect change and was driving her to make a difference - not just telling her she was capable of doing so.

Kristy's unwavering drive to make a difference is something I love and admire about my daughter. She was truly the bravest of souls. I am drawn back to this particular conversation all the time. All the excuses I gave her for why I couldn't achieve my desire. In the end, I know she is right. So what am I waiting for?

DESERT WINDS

New Mexico at sunset - photo by Kim Clarkson

What makes the desert beautiful
is that somewhere it hides a well.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery


The following is a note I wrote to Kristy's friend Catherine while I was in the New Mexico desert with my sister Kim shortly after Kristy's death.

This morning I walked to the college by myself through the rockiest and steepest parts of the desert trail. It took over an hour but I was rewarded with breathtaking views of the mountains and vistas below. I can see Angel Peak on the left and Shiprock on the right, just to give you an idea of what landmarks are around. The wind was not so loud this morning and I could hear the doves cooing as they were waking.

For the last few days my sister and I have been walking around 7 pm - by doing so we have been rewarded with a closeup view of a huge owl. He is so large it looks as if a goose is flying! And of course he makes no sound. I am hoping to find a feather but so far no luck.

The desert looks still and unmoving, but when you look closer - out of the corner of your eye - you can see so much life. I am a little hesitant to walk in the desert hills when the winds are raging. According to native wisdom this may not be wise. So I have to learn to pay more attention to the current of life going on around me. Kristy is now in this current. I feel the same deep connection to you too. You were so dear to Kristy. I remember she told me she had talked to you not too long ago. It was a statement out of the blue as we were loading furniture into her room. I had to laugh with her as we reminisced.

I guess now it is up to us to make a new world for ourselves. One with Kristy always in our mind's eye. For after we are gone the part of her we are carrying with us will also be gone. But she will have by then become part of us and therefore part of those who remember us in our turn.

Thank you Catherine, for being a well to Kristy.

WHEN SHE SMILED

My sister's favorite photo of Kristy. I love this photo too, because it reminds me of her when she was a little girl. Even though she was "all grown up", when she giggled it made me giddy - and when she smiled . . . . .

One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become.
One lives one's death, one dies one's life.
Jean-Paul Sartre