Danmancle's Blog

I was asked by Peg’s family to write and deliver a eulogy for her nephew Taru . It was delivered on Sunday October 27th. Below is a copy of that eulogy:

Good Evening

Before I begin I have been asked to turn your attention to the poster with directions for claiming art and remind you that all Star Wars figures hidden and displayed in the Conservatory are being given away-just take one.  I also want to thank Chris Rose for the music.

Once again, good evening.  My name is Danny Manross.  I am married to Peg Sterling, Taru’s oldest aunt.  I have been asked by Thom and Susan to talk to you about Taru.  We are here today to remember and celebrate the life of Taru Sterling, beloved son, brother, cousin, nephew and friend.

I would like to start by reading a portion of the obituary for Legacy.com written by Taru’s brother, Shad.

“Taru Sterling was energetic, friendly, honest, and the most entertaining person behind the bakery counter at the Ann Arbor Whole Foods (since 2003).  If you didn’t meet him there you might have met him at Community High (1988-1992) or Camp Algonquin (1986-1993), or you might have seen his name in the credits for the Judge Judy show. He was also the biggest fan of Star Wars and a talented and prolific painter with a degree from the Kansas City Art Institute (1992-1996).  Taru passed away on April 18^th, only a month after being diagnosed with an aggressive cancer.  He was predeceased by his mother, Ann Sterling, and is survived by his father, Thom Sterling, stepmother Susan Lazar, and siblings Phoung, Shad, Sam, and Mercedes.”

Phu Thanh Hung was born October 30, 1973, in what is now South Vietnam.  He was 1-1/2 years old when adopted by Thom and Ann through the Holt International Agency as part of the two plane loads of orphans airlifted out of Vietnam designated for Michigan.  He was thought to have cerebral palsy by the Vietnam doctors.  He was weak, thin, and unwell.  In a few weeks of loving care, he began to walk, interact and apparently loved to eat crackers.  He did not have cerebral palsy.  He just needed a loving family.

When adopted Thom & Ann altered his name to officially be Tarek Phu Thanh Hung Sterling.  Taru was the nickname for Tarek which means “star of burning brightness.”  Those who knew Taru would agree.

Taru lit up the lives of all that he encountered whether he was aware of it or not.

Taru’s life journey continued as academic pursuits moved the family to Hawaii where Ann’s mother lived before he was 2.  Neighbors and friends were quite talkative and lively around their new friend Taru.  By age 4 Taru was an active talking toddler.  When they moved back to Ann Arbor Shad was born 3 days after Taru’s 4^th birthday.  At age 6 Taru met a lifelong friend, Tiyal.

1980-age 7 was a significant year, as that year the family moved to the student housing apartment near the hill where he often went to look at the stars-and where his ashes were scattered on May 4.  The following year Taru had the unique experience of watching the birth of his sister Jessica (now Sam).

Once again in pursuit of academics the family moved to California before 3^rd grade.  In 4^th grade Taru went to art classes in Berkely.  He was immediately known to have talent-he began by drawing nudes-not quite the thing to do in the 4^th grade classroom.  Thom told Taru to just not draw them in school.

By 5^th grade they were back in Ann Arbor.  In high school Taru attended daily art classes at Community High.  One summer he attended the Center for Creative Studies in Detroit.

In 1996 Taru graduated from the Kansas City Art Institute with Taru’s adopted sister Mercedes age 4 in attendance along with his parents.  After University, Taru had some small success as a professional artist-some items are on exhibit here today.  He continued to do portraits his whole life.

For a few years after college, he went to California with his friend Camron Shafi where he had part time jobs including part time as a production assistant for Judge Judy.  One time Judge Judy invited Taru to go to a Simon and Garfunkel concert with her as her guest.

One-year Taru came home for a holiday complaining about being broke-Thom told him just look for “help wanted” signs when you go back to California.  Two weeks later Taru had a job with Whole Foods for the rest of his life. 

As is the case with most of us, at one-point Taru needed help and came back home permanently.  Working at Whole Foods and doing well Taru bought a house but eventually sold it to his friend Mike and then moved in with Mike, Mike’s daughter Rosemary, and family friend Heidi.  This would forever be Taru’s “family”

Some of Taru’s treasured memories include visiting Uncle Ivan in Bonn, Germany for a week when he was 17 including a memorable drive from Berlin through the Berlin wall and 5-hour drive across Communist East Germany to West Germany.  Ivan only had one tape so for 9 hours they listened to “The Best of Simon and Garfunkel.”

During Junior High, Taru went to YMCA Camp Algonquin.  One of his camp friends, Linsey, took some of Taru’s ashes to be scattered at Algonquin.

Taru loved family get-togethers with his siblings and extended family.  It was such an occasion when I first met Taru. Although I had heard him spoken of often by Peg and Shannon and seen his art hanging in our home, my impression meeting Taru was how eager he was to carry on a conversation-and he actually listened.  I also found him to be completely honest when answering a question-seems to be a Sterling trait. 

Thom’s wife, Ann, passed away in 2009.  A year later he met Susan, and they married in 2012-point being that Taru instantly welcomed his entire stepfamily into his life.  Taru told Susan that he wished to be invited over “whenever you invite your kids over”.   Taru never missed a holiday at their house unless he was sick.  He visited Thom and Susan often.  He just had to leave before dark because he did not want to hit a deer.

Tributes: online, emailed & shared

Taru’s cousin, Amanda Olesky wrote:                                                                                                                                                              “Rest in peace Taru. Your spirit was so bright and to realize it won’t shine anymore is heart breaking”

Alisha Ase wrote:                                                                                                                                                              “He was a huge light in my tiny life at commi high. He did a beautiful portrait of me for my mother as a gift.  He will be missed in all the little bits of love that life brings.”

Alison Stankrauff wrote:                                                                                                                                                             “Taru was and is one of my favorite and most important people.  I will always miss him.  My heart is heavy”.

Dani Levasseur wrote:                                                                                                                                                              “Taru was a truly gentle and unique soul.  I was blessed by his spirit and entrance into the world.  Taru opened my eyes to so many magical things”

John Ferry, Professor at Kansas City Art Institute wrote:                                                “Taru was in the first class I ever taught as an adjunct instructor.  I don’t remember every student, but I certainly remember Taru’s passion, work ethic, dedication and positive attitude.  He helped me become the professor I am today, and for that I will be forever grateful.  It’s said that a teacher’s influence is felt through eternity.  Taru’s influence will be felt through my teaching for as long as I continue.” 

Amy Lazar wrote:                                                                                                                                                                            I had the honor of meeting Taru during family gatherings.  He was kind, funny, talented and clearly loved his family so much.  Taru was just one of those people who made you feel like the world was a wonderful place and news of his passing weighed heavily on my heart.”

Many who shared tributes for Taru mentioned his love of Star Wars.

Efra Forizzle wrote:  “Taru you are now one with the force.  I can’t speak for him, but I would think Taru would want us to follow the Jedi Master Yoda’s teachings as he did in this case.  Jedi Master Yoda once told a very powerful Jedi, Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the force. That I will do for you, young padawan Taru.  May the force be with you always til we meet again Brother.”   

Taru’s cousin, Sterling Orlowski wrote:                                                                                                                                                                       “He was always the person you knew what he was like.  He was always positive and always brought that energy to every aspect of his life.  He loved Star Wars.  He was an amazing artist.  He was kind.  He was loved.  I know this. He is one with the Force-the Force is with him.

Taru’s brother, Shad Sterling wrote:                                                                                                                                                                               “We scattered Taru’s ashes on May 4^th-Star Wars Day because Taru was a huge fan.  By the light from our light sabers, we shared some memories.  Such a dear sweet soul. Taru, you will be missed by all who knew you. Fly high!”

When Taru passed, his best friend, his roommate and roommate’s daughter had watched Star Wars with the volume up so Taru could hear in his room and went to check on him during the closing credits in time to spend a few peaceful moments with him before he seemed to choose the very end of the Star Wars closing theme to find his final moment.”

I will have a few closing comments, but would like to open at this time for anyone who wishes to say something-then I will have closing statements.

Taru’s Dad said that Taru was always full of energy and joy.  He made friends wherever he went.  He was always willing to jump in to help.  Taru had great health all his life and rarely saw a doctor.  His final illness, turbo cancer of the liver, took him and everyone else by surprise.  He did not have much time to prepare for death.  He told us, “I thought I had more time.”

Susan mentioned that there is a piece of art being exhibited (#046 dated April 17-18,1994) that she believes has a premonition of his death 20 years earlier.  He could not have known that he would be living on Maple Street and lifting off to heaven at that time.

Susan also observed that Taru was a firm believer in the spiritual world in general.  He frequently pointed out a little pigment on his eye that he said meant he was kissed by an angel.  He was truly a gift from God.

We know that this day the angel that touched Taru is standing in line with a host of angels waiting to get their portrait drawn by our “star of piercing brightness”.

Thank you all for coming.

“Retirement is not the end of the road. It is the beginning of the open highway.”  

Whoever originated that quote has not travelled on my highway lately. Much like the actual street where we live, my retirement “highway” is now dug up, unpaved, full of trenches, potholes and lots of mud – oh my yes – lots of mud. 

Traveling, and visiting our children and five grandchildren, had become our normal aspiration as we had moved into a comfortable “retirement” routine as well as enjoying the local activities that come with having time and choices. However, having a 91-year-old mother living 700 miles away and suddenly needing exceptional care brought out the big orange construction barrels of life with the reflective striped “road closed” sign.  

Life as we anticipated will now consist of trips back and forth to take care of mom. The process was helped by the fact that she has adapted to her assisted living “home” and is resigned to the fact she will not be returning to her house. The quandary now – do we continue to live in two states or convince mom (and ourselves) to move to an equally favorable assisted living near our home, OR permanently move to mom’s location? Since my mom had just turned 18 when I was born it makes us close enough in age that I should be looking for my own assisted living by now, not taking care of another adult. 

I am aware that our dilemma is not unique among our age group. Other retired couples we know also take care of a parent. I have one good friend (do not tell him I said he was a friend) who along with his wife was given permanent custodial care of their grandchild. School drop offs and soccer mom trips in their late 70s was not how they imagined their golden years either. Apparently, the “open highway” has detours for many of us. We just need to drive steadily, keep checking the map, enjoy the view when we can and use proper turn signals – we’re going to need them. 

So we’re driving along interstate 40 through Tenn. and passed by a large building along the edge of the interstate. The back of the building is exposed to the highway and has three large signs covering the entire surface. The left side sign says GUNS; the right side sign says WE BUY GUNS; the sign in between and joining them together says JESUS IS LORD.

GUNS -JESUS IS LORD -WE BUY GUNS

So I assume that this building must be:

1) Evangelical Church; 2) Republican Hdqtrs; 3) NRA recruiting ctr; or 4) The Oxymoron Building.

I thought to myself – I’m sure the building would still be standing if the middle sign read Allahu Akbar.

#RemingtonsfortheRapture #thisisnotmyJesus #buddhahasabazooka

It appears that Thanos has snapped his fingers, Sauron and the Orcs have surrounded our encampment, Voldemort has come back with the death eaters, Palpatine has returned, and The Gorn, Borg and Romulons have joined ranks against us. Our allies to the South have all been buried protecting our flank. We have become engaged by stormtroopers on either side of our camp as well as Tribes across the concrete divide. Our allies have been reduced by 75% since Morgoth collected the deeds. Our fort was built 97 years ago and we have been defending its honor for 25 years, but now the enemy is too strong. The death star commander has met with our weak rebel forces to demand a surrender in a meeting of council. Our flag will be removed, our only escape route to freedom has been renamed by the one who shall not be named. Surrounding nations will assume we waved the white flag of defeat. We will be clad in purple robes and be so marked in public humiliation. We must find a means of escape yet we must stay to protect the Manor and its heritage. Who shall help us? Who will hear our cries for help? We must call Wonder Realtor! Or use the cloak of invisibility.

“Now is the winter of our discontent…”. Words of discouragement due to the continuous Covid saga? Comments regarding the snow and ice we have seen already this year? Possibly – but for me it is a smile statement. It was just announced today that the auditions have been set for our production of Richard III. Ironically, my audition for the Romeo & Juliet production was the opening monologue in Richard III. There are 57 male characters in the “Dramatis Personae” of Richard III so presumably there will be one character old enough for me to play.

I say “our” production because I consider myself a member of the family known as the Shared Radiance Performing Arts Company that produces Shakespeare productions semiannually (live, if covid permits). I have mentioned in a previous blog my affinity to this group for two reasons. First of all is my love of Shakespeare since junior high. Secondly, is that, for me, being in Shared Radiance is like going to a family reunion twice a year – without the peckish Uncle or political rudeness. It’s like a Thanksgiving gathering where everybody brings the most delicious meal. I fully expect to break out into a verse of “La Vie Boheme B” from Rent when we gather for rehearsals.

As a card-carrying septuagenarian, I am absorbed in a multitude of PBS shows. As the younger generation can cosplay the entire Marvel or Anime genre, I could do well the same with many PBS characters. That being said, there is a quote that hit home to me from an elderly character on Call the Midwife. Sister Monica Joan said,

“Seek not wisdom under the branches of the mighty oak. Its shadows cast confusion.                                 Stand instead beside the saplings. There is more light. You will gain clarity”.   

The saplings bringing light in this case are the young adult actors in Shared Radiance that share their talents. This is a group of people that remind me of how good people are supposed to be. Their “wisdom” of humanness is truly genuine. These are smart, curious, caring, forward thinking goof balls that bring joy. Yes, they get discouraged, have problems, and are discovering who they are and who they want to become in life. Rehearsals are a safe place, an honest place, a sharing place – and they even let me join in all their reindeer games.  Sure, I have no clue sometimes relative to their pop culture references – but then, they don’t know mine. In some odd way they make me feel young – Clarity is reminding me what mighty oaks could become if given enough light.

 In every production I have participated in to date, my character has been either the father, grandfather, or uncle of another character in the play. I would proudly play that part in real life for any one of these marvelous saplings (except maybe Slender – he is of course a knucklehead).

Shakespeare wrote in his Sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old. So long as youth and thou are of one date.” At least a few months out of each year the mirror is looking pretty good. For now, however, I need to practice being an old man for my audition.

“To be, or not to be. That is the question”. Do I want to be in another production or not – now That is the question. But That means another audition – you’ve read how those turn out (blogs # 58 & 66). The production is Hamlet and the director is a new one and she really knows her stuff.  She doesn’t know me yet, so I can’t play the poor sad friend card on her – I will actually need to do an audition.

She said “just submit a tape of one of your performances” since it is a zoom production because of Covid, there won’t be any in-person auditions. Sure – all the other actors are real actors – they can pull something off a DVD, or production reel from a big play they were in or maybe some movie or commercial. They probably have audition tapes on catalogued flash drives. The only performance of me on You Tube is my “father of the bride” toast at my oldest daughter’s wedding. (It was pretty good if I say so myself).  

I’m like the donkey in the manger scene compared to the others auditioning. I was a shepherd once in the manger scene in grade school for our church Christmas play.  I proudly showed up in my costume right on time in the sanctuary.  It was the wrong night.  Everybody else was there all dressed up for a musical concert – they just turned and looked at me as I entered. Traumatized, I just froze – then cried – then left the building swearing to never attempt to “act” again. 

So why do I persist in this nightmare? The previous zoom production for Midsummer Night’s Dream, I, panicking, sent in the only video I had of me performing anywhere (no – not that kind) and it was of me wearing a diaper and wings running around with a toy bow and arrow playing Cupid for a Valentines sketch (so – almost that kind). The director was probably so embarrassed and felt so sorry for me I got a part as an old man – which made my third old man part in a row. I’m sure she destroyed the video and has tried to block it from her memory. That was an image that is hard to forget. Valentine’s Day will never be the same for those unfortunate audience members.

So back to my new audition conundrum. I have no video, I’m not on IMDb like all the others, and can’t bluff my way thru this hired gun Director – so what to do? I certainly don’t want to be lame and just read some lines, which really isn’t a true audition, so what’s the plan? Do I really want to be in this? Of course I do. So, I had been working on a monologue from Richard II – why, I don’t know – I thought everybody walked around muttering Shakespeare monologues in their spare time. Don’t they? Besides, I love the Dick monologues – you know, Richard the II and Richard the III!

So, let’s do this – I set up my iPhone – I have nothing but the most official videography equipment – ha. I hit the video record button and decided to give it a shot – it may take twenty tries but I have to get a one-minute monologue without interruptions. I started the speech. A minute and a half later I had reached a point that was at my “I can’t remember any more words” point, which actually doesn’t have anything to do with auditions. I had done it! I got thru it by being relaxed and just doing what I had practiced in one take. Habaluya! I sent it off to the director. Who knows if she ever even looked at it – what matters is I got a part – in fact two parts – an old dead man, and a fool – (she must have looked at it!) – typecasting is becoming on me. I see a pattern – but… I am an actor. I hope I show up on the right night

Holy moly – that hurt – a lot. I thought last week’s visitation by Dracula was bad but that was party time compared to today. When I alluded in the previous blog about being on the rack – well today I was. The nurse attendant called my name while I was sitting in the lobby and we began walking down the corridor. I jokingly said “are you going to help torture me?” She said sorrowfully- “No only the Doctor gets to torture – I’m just leading you to the chamber.”  And so, it begins… I enter the room to only a rack and a machine with wires and knobs. When the Doctor enters, I’m lying on the rack (I guess it was an examining table) with no pants on… That itself was emotionally painful. instead of having you wear the old hospital gown with your butt hanging out – now you get a pair of disposable paper shorts to wear. They would be great to wear around the house during COVID.  I should have kept them. I digress.

So, I’m lying on the rack and the Dr. Frankenstein starts putting all these electrode connectors on me hooked up to a machine with knobs so she can increase the pain with the turn of the wrist! Suddenly I feel really sharp pains all up and down my leg and then my foot and leg start moving to the movements of the knobs. I was a freakin marionette with battery cables instead of strings. What is happening? When a Dr. says – this will hurt – you know you’re in trouble.  My legs were jumping, my toes would curl and straighten out without me doing anything – except biting my hand to keep from screaming. My Covid mask was already wet from my tears.  After a while she said, “that was good – sorry I hurt you.” but I could see the grin through her mask and shield.  Wow, I thought it was finally over – then she said, “so let’s do the other side now.”  I have to do this AGAIN!  It will be worse since now I know what’s coming!

We did the other side and it WAS worse. I think she was getting carried away turning up the knobs. She was like a kid with a shortwave radio set trying to contact Starfleet command. After she finished the second leg – so glad I only have two of them- I assumed it was over and I can change out of my now soiled silly paper pants. Hold on there, Sparky, was what she wanted to say but she did say that we weren’t done yet – oh no! Next thing she said was “we will now do some tests using needles that I will project into your muscles to see how they respond.”  I’ll tell you how they will respond – with lots of pain!! I figured she was upset with me by now because she kept calling me names. At least I think she was – every time she stuck a needle in me, she looked at me and said “little prick.” So now we had to go through both legs using 10 foot long needles. At least that’s what I thought – I couldn’t see through the tears and mask.

Geez Louise – bring back Dracula. Actually, the needles weren’t as painful as the shock treatment battery cables – but by then I was semi-comatose. Finally, the testing was complete. My pain threshold was juvenile. I think she murmured under her mask that I acted like a little baby. I couldn’t tell, I couldn’t hear what with me crying so loud. I asked simply what would be the treatment if the result proved nerve damage (neuropathy)? She said “oh there is none.” To which I sarcastically said, “then why bother with the torture test?” She professionally said, “to rule it out as a cause.” I think she meant to say it was because she enjoys inflicting pain! The test was negative so I never have to go through that again – although she never got to the arms!! One more Dr appointment tomorrow- I think they call each other and compare notes to see who can inflict the most pain. It’s the mad scientists’ Olympics.

Today provided one of the strangest events of my lifetime – and I am 71 yrs old. I have known for a while that I have MGD – Meibomian Gland Dysfunction which is a stupid fancy made up name for having dry eyes. My current eye Dr has been rather insistent that I get treatment for this so it will not impact my vision as I get even older. That or he just needed a Christmas bonus. So today I went to the eye Dr to get my “LipiFlow Thermal Pulsation Treatment”. Sounds like something I would need to undress for!

I was taken to a back room by a nurse attendant where I was met by another nurse attendant. They welcomed me in and closed the door. To my surprise yet another person stepped out from behind the door and introduced herself.

Now I have to interrupt here and make a clear statement – this person was dressed in black, had black hair and spoke with a very distinct accent – imagine yourself watching an old Bela Lugosi black and white Dracula movie – you know – we’ve all done the impression as kids “ I vont to bite your neck” as we throw our cape up around our neck. Even The Count on Sesame Street has it down. That was her! She had the exact same accent – must be from Transylvania! – Anyway – as you read the rest of this account you MUST read the italicized, bolded words with the Dracula accent! Her name was Katta (that’s what I remember – it sure wasn’t Suzy or Linda).

So, I am now in the room and I nervously say – “wow- three of you – one to torture me while two hold me down” – Two of the assistants laugh. Katta says “you are funny man Mr. Moontross. Let me explain what we will be doing to you today.” I then said “I haven’t seen you before – are you new to this office?” “You are correct – I travel many places and today I am here to teach these others how to do this experiment”. I’m sure she said treatment but the voice was scaring the crap out of me. “I want to make sure you are very comfortable Mr. Mantruss, are you comfortable? I want you to sit back – there you go – and tilt your neck back so your head is tilted. There – perfect- it looks perfect. Let me explain what is going to happen to you.” (I immediately thought of Wesley on the rack in The Princess Bride.)

  “We are going to attach this device to your eyeballs (seriously, that’s exactly what she said) and then begin the process.” (The device looked like electric swimming goggles – exactly what you need – electric wires attached to your eyeballs) “So try to relax and I will explain as we go. First, we will attach the right side of the machine to your right eyeball – it will grab right around it – but we will not hurt your cornea. Do you understand? Now my assistant will hold your eyelid completely open while we let the apparatus grab the eyeball. You must look down while she holds your eye open. Perfect – well done – did you hear that suuucking sound? It was wonderful – it means we have perfect contact with the eyeball.” They do the left eye next – and the apparatus is firmly in place. At some point during the introductions, one of the nurses had left the room, but now that I am eyeballed up – she returns and asks if I had medical power of attorney and a living will on record!!!! Says thanks and leaves. So that was not helpful.

“Let me tape these down – just in case you make sudden move during the process. So here is what we plan to do… First Phase – it will heat up your eyeballs to 108 degrees Fahrenheit – first the right, then the left – you will enjoy – yes?”  WTF –it said nothing in the brochure about barbecuing my eyeballs. “Second phase it will massage your eyeballs and the Third and final phase is extraction! I immediately said – “hold on a minute – you need to rephrase that last statement or you will be scaring the crap out of your patients, like me. “Heh heh – you are funny man Mr. Montruse… but yes you are right – phase three it will extract the old glandular fluid out of each eye.”

While I was laying back in the chair going through this I said “geez for this much money you should include a mani pedi while I’m sitting here”.  “You are funny man – he is funny man – yes?” The nurse attendant chuckled nervously and agreed. The whole process took 12 minutes and every phase felt not uncomfortable and exactly as she stated. Phase two was the massaging of the eye – pulsing back and forth between each eye and she said “this is good, yes? It feel like milking cow – you can hear machine moo!”  I have no remembrance of what phase three felt like – I couldn’t get my mind off the cow. When it was all done, she removed the tape and unhooked the attachment from my eyes. It felt like pulling a suction cup from a window. Katta was the only one remaining in the room and said “how many fingers do I hold up?” (as she held up 2 fingers). I said “two” of course. She said, “I thought you would be funny man and say three. By the way – I took picture of you – what is your phone number so I may put in phone to send you photograph.” (I think at some point in the process I said “this is really weird – it would make a cool photo”.) So now Dracula has my phone number.

She gave me instructions for eye drops and eye gel and then said “let me teach you how to blink – most peoples do not know how to blink – do as I do and then repeat.” (She kept staring at me and blinking over and over– I think she was trying to hypnotize me!) “You can do this when you stop at traffic light – yes? or during commercial on tv. I will leave now – you go now. You come back in one year – we do again!”

I’m afraid now I will start blinking nervously every time I see the Count on Sesame Street! And, of course our house abuts a huge ancient cemetery, so I may never close my eyes again!

This blog is a poem – actually a weird adaptation of Clement Clarke Moore’s “Twas the night before Christmas…” for a very wonderful reason. Let me explain:

2020 has been the most awkward, unkind, devastating, demoralizing year for most of mankind because of the pandemic. This same year has also been one of neighborhood “urban renewal,” at least on our quiet little street with the exponential growth of the University at the end of the avenue. We have seen many of our neighbors’ homes gobbled up lately as part of an apparent eminent domain philosophy. As such we now have graduate and upper class university students living on either side of us and across the street. Several other homes around us are now university homes.

As we curse the gods, karma, and the current Rump administration for the black hole of yuck in which we are living, would this new “neighbor” situation drive us further to despair? Would we wake each night to “Animal House” parties; find kegs and cans all over our yard every Sunday morning like the weekly newspaper delivery? Would sorority row keep onslaughts of traffic coming and going? I mean, come on, they are like vampires, sleeping all day and prowling all night. Would we have to insulate our visiting grandkids from sights and sounds of college life surrounding our rest home of serenity?  

Well, it turned out that one of the most positive results of being quarantined for 800 weeks on a self-pity island surrounded by all hormonal twenty somethings is that the lifeline to sanity and normalcy was the trio of angels that moved in next door disguised as graduate business students. It was like we woke up one morning and our granddaughters had gone from preschool to grad school and moved in next door. Could not have had any better hopes for neighbors. So, in tribute to their kindness, their unbridled joy and friendship, we wrote them a little appreciative plagiarized Christmas poem before they went to their “other” homes for the holidays. (we are currently contacting all their advisors to make sure the girls fail all exams and have to stay another year 😉)

For the TEA girls of 236

Twas weeks before Christmas

And all thru the hood

Not a student was stirring

They’d gone home, as they could.

Our stockings were hung

From the chimney with care

In hopes that their presence

Would cure the Covid despair.

Grandchildren all quarantined

In their homes far away

With visions of visits

To Montlieu someday.

Peg in her T shirt

And me in my cap

Had just settled down

For an afternoon nap.

When out on the porch

There arose such a clatter

I sprang from my chair

To see what was the matter.

I sprang to the hallway

And rushed to the door

But I tripped on the rug

And nearly fell to the floor.

In a moment of panic

I yelled “what The Hell” …

In hopes that Peg

Would answer the bell.

When what to our wondering

Eyes should appear

But our three favorite neighbors

With gifts of good cheer.

With boxes and cards

All wrapped with a bow

A stocking stuffed full

Yet we had nothing to show.

They stood three together

Like angels in masks

And said Merry Christmas

While we stood both aghast.

More rapid than eagles

Their time was all spent

We talked all so fast

And wished more could be lent.

Now Taylor

Now Amelia, now Emily three

Off to their real homes

They would travel to be.

With beautiful smiles

And a wave of their wrists

They would all soon be gone

Our neighbors, our friends, our girls of 236.

But we heard them exclaim

Ere they drove out of sight

Merry Christmas to all

And to all a good night.

December 7, 2020

Quarantine Day # 129.

It’s crazy! That statement alone would have made absolutely no sense a year ago. Yet now the declaration of a quarantine is global. I think there have been houses I moved to that I never lived in as long as I have currently been quarantined. The idea, the reason for quarantine, is a tragic reminder of adults of time periods we had read about in history but never, ever presumed we would face it in our lifetimes, at least not in a sophisticated, educated and “wealthy” society. No, maybe a third world country would have to experience such a catastrophic event but not us. Yet here we are. It made me think (as there is not much else to do) about the children of this horrible venture into madness.

Our little ones (the youngest of 5 grandchildren) may not remember much of this, assuming it is better in 6 months. As they are just 5 years old, it may be just a footnote on their life experience – we can only hope! As of now they have an innocent approach to the current world’s events outside of their daily dose of “device” stories and games and what they hear from their parents. Their current innocence is manifested in their description of what is happening. One of our little ones had her preschool interrupted by Covid at the moment of “spring break” for her school activities. (Something just sounds weird having spring breaks, and graduations at the preschool level). So, based on that she will say “Grandpa we can go to -fill in the blank- when the Spring Break is over”. To her mind we are just in a very long Spring Break. The other little one expresses this current experience by stating what she probably heard from her parents that we can do things “after the disease.”

What strikes me, in addition to everything else absurd, is that while countless ignorant people have politicized the wearing of masks – besides endangering their own lives – they are not realizing the impact on their children! Not just physically but mentally and emotionally! They are disregarding the responsibility to teach basic issues to their children. Just watch the interviews and glimpses of unmasked people on the news. I usually take a quick glance at their children next to them and see them in light of a grandparent and it saddens me.

It also makes my wife and me so very grateful and humble for our 3 daughters and their husbands who are handling this catastrophe with the best of humanity. As educated women with educated husbands they have crossed this great river of fear with all the tools they can muster and control to get their “babies” across to the other side. They remind me of momma bears protecting their cubs at any and all costs! My mother – the great grandma – called us the other day and said she was worried about the great grandchildren in light of the issues for the starting of the new school year. Without hesitation I told her that I was not worried because the grandchildren had the best parents and they would protect them and nurture them beyond anything I could imagine.

When I shared the conversation with Peg she calmly agreed and said absolutely our daughters would do the best to get the little ones through this. She casually said she knew because they were all “wired” to teach, to entertain, and to protect their children through this pandemic with total resolve. We have total comfort and ease knowing our grandchildren will be safe and make it through stronger, more educated, and with the proper guidance needed for their specific ages to get through this. We don’t know the future extent of the pandemic, but I know my family has the right “stuff” to get our grandchildren safely physically, mentally and psychologically to the other side.

Just wear your frickin masks people!