I know Terrie from her days at Sacramento State College.  My dad, Brigham Arnold, taught at Sac State and, at one point, Terrie was one of his students.  My dad was head of the Geography Department when David was hired.  Once Terrie married David, they became my “Aunt Terrie and Uncle David.”  They were dear friends of my parents and I adored them both.  When she and David would come to visit, there was fun and games in the house.   After a lively dinner I’d be sent to bed, but then I’d creep out and perch at the top of the stairs so I could watch the grown ups talking and joking, their heads thrown back in full throated laughter.

My whole family was heartbroken when they moved to Syracuse, but happily they returned often to visit, frequently after one of their many trips abroad.  They’d spend a night or two and I’d sit adoringly watching my glamorous Aunt Terrie dress and groom in the mornings.  She seemed sophisticated and exotic with her bright dresses and pierced ears!

When they traveled, Aunt Terrie always sent a postcard, addressed just to me.  Longer letters were sent to my parents, but to receive mail of my very own made me feel so special.  On their return, Terrie always brought me a special gift – usually a piece of folk art, like a doll or jewelry.  I treasured these items and still have many of them.  The postcards, gifts, and stories they both told, of their travels inspired me to want to see the world.  And today, when I am lucky enough to travel abroad, I often think of Aunt Terrie and Uncle David’s zest for life and new cultural experiences.

When I was a “wild child” teenager hitchhiking around the country in the 1970s, Aunt Terrie and Uncle David hosted me in Syracuse and Janesville more than once. In retrospect I see how patient they were with my youthful know-it-all-ness and how very generous they were.  I’d blow into town and they’d buy an extra ticket to whatever performance they were attending to include me.  (I particularly recall a harpsichord performance of the Goldberg Variations).  One time they even lent me their Fiat to drive across country and leave at my parents house where they would pick it up on their next visit to California.  

Terrie and I were both only children and, as adults, we talked about the stigma that “onlies” bear in our culture, and contrasted that with the positive qualities that we saw resulting from our only child status.

Aunt Terrie loved birds and often had small birds in cages. Each time I visited it seemed the cages were larger.  At one point a spare room in the Syracuse house seemed to have been given over entirely to the colorful song birds.  She told me that she wanted them to be happy but once she’d been to a large aviary at the zoo and noticed that, even in that huge enclosure, the birds were all clinging to the topmost part of the netting.  She said that then she realized that even the largest, nicest cage is still a cage and will never be big enough. There was a sad resignation in her voice that touched me.  It seemed like a metaphor for loving anything or anyone.

Aunt Terrie was crushed when David died and she came to California to visit friends. I was pleased to be included in that itinerary.  By this time I had settled down some with a job, a home, and a partner, but I was still young.  Listening to her, I knew I was in the presence of a grief that I was unable to comprehend.

A few decades later, I was caring for my father as he was dying.  Terrie was a great comfort to me.  She spoke to me on the phone often, listening to my despair with compassion.  She reassured me without minimizing my grief.  She told me more about her last days with David, and this time I had the life experience to understand what it means to comfort and guide someone you love through that final transition.  

And so I want to extend my appreciation to the team of friends who have been there for my Aunt Terrie in her last years.  I know the work of caring for an elderly person can be emotional, time consuming, and all encompassing.  I know that the last weeks are especially emotional and difficult.  I am grateful to know she had people nearby to look after her and support her on her journey.  

Thank you, thank you for taking care of my dear Aunt Terrie.