Life of Wry

I’ve talked about the Short sisters before…. the seven sisters (and one brother) raised in Cedar Falls, Iowa at the turn of the century (some born in the 1800s, like my grandma Mary, some bled over into the 1900s). They all had kids. Grandma Mary and Grandpa Victor had three kids, of which dad was one. Great Aunt Tootie had just one kid, Bonnie (I am her first cousin once removed but I call her Aunt Bonnie).

All of the Short sisters (and Great Uncle Romeo) are long gone. Most of their kids are also gone… I haven’t done a count recently, but I could probably do it on one hand. But for sure Bonnie is the oldest of those remaining. So.. she is the Short matriarch (though she was a Buck).

Aunt Bonnie is a hoot. The definition of hoot. She is fun, funny, relentlessly positive, infinitely cheerful, wears colorful clothes (always), tells hilarious stories, and loves, LOVES her dog Sadie.

In any case, her 93 birthday is on March 8, so today I made a card for her. It was fun to make… I used photos from my most recent visits in October 2017 and April 2023.. I know she’ll get a kick out of it.

Yesterday, I put my ballot into our so called Ballot Drop Box in front of City Hall. This is the new protocol… well, new-ish for me.

For all of my voting life — some 50 years — I voted in person on voting day. For the last 28 or so years, I walked into the Senior Center across the street to vote. The whole deal… the red-white-blue directional signage leading you to the room, the warnings about not politicking within so many feet of the polls, the chatting up of the election workers, the scanning of the list posted outside indicating who was eligible to vote in this precinct, the photos I’d take of Peter who might accompany me or, later, selfies of important elections (like Obama!)… all of that.

These days, California has shifted to largely mail-only voting. You can vote in person, but it’s not like it used to be with dozens and dozens of polling places all over town. Now, if you are a Davis resident and want to vote in person you have to go to a Voting Center! And there are options for Voting Centers.

:: You can go to the Veterans’ Memorial Center on election day, or for the ten days before that and vote the way you always used to, in a little booth.

:: Or, you can go a location at UCD, one of the junior highs, or one of the elementary schools on election day or three days before that and vote in the little booth.

But most people are signing up for mailed ballots. I’m one of those. These you fill out at home and return by mail.. or you can deliver them in person for an entire month before the election to either the Yolo County Clerk’s office in Woodland (who would do that?) or to Ballot Drop Boxes at two of the Davis Nugget markets (but only for certain hours), or to a 24-hr Ballot Drop Box, of which there are two in Davis, one on campus and one at City Hall. Or — just to add more helpful but undoubtedly confusing options — you can drop your ballot off at an in-person Voting Center (either an 11-day center or a 4-day center).

Got all that?

It used to be so easy.

Now it’s easier — at least there are more options — but more confusing.

Anyway, all of this is to say that after dropping off my ballot yesterday at the 24-hr City Hall Ballot Drop Box (right across the street!), I was very relieved to get not one, but two confirmations that my ballot was in the County Clerk’s hands (so to speak). An email and a text.

It’s always a good day to vote.

This is one of the more striking graphics I’ve seen.

It’s the work of Barbara Galinska, a polish designer of lettering art. I’m in awe. Worth checking out her website and Facebook page.

[Note: starting the long slog back to blog catchup after being gone for 2+ weeks, plus settling back in, plus murder pre-trial… lots of backfills to come.. bear with.]

Spring is here (until tomorrow anyway). Took myself for a walk down by the creek. Boy, was that nice. Saw budding red buds and bursting magnolias… it was just so, so lovely.

Spoiler alert: Biden won the dem primary in Michigan! I know this because I’m actually writing this the day after the Michigan primary (b/c I’m doing a whole bunch of blog catchupping).

I texted Peter and Maya to wish them a happy voting day. Got this quick pic back from Maya right away… love these kids.

Today was both light and dark. We started the day by honoring David Breaux’s birthday.. by handing out free pieces of Boston Cream Pie — his favorite cake as a kid — at Compassion Corner. Afterward, we took the leftover cake to Paul’s Place, the new (ish) homeless shelter on H Street. The celebration brought out dozens of people who loved David and supported his life’s work of spreading compassion. Both the 90-minute gathering, and the time spent at Paul’s Place were affirming and loving.

After that… ugh. It was the first day of the preliminary hearing for the upcoming murder trial of Carlos, the kid who killed David, Karim, and attempted to kill Kimberly nearly a year ago. The trial proceedings are starting all over again, following the restoration of Carlos’ competency to stand trial…. sure I documented all that before. We are back on track after many months off, during which Carlos received the treatment he needed, following the psychotic episode that led to that horrific string of stabbings last April.

The hearing will take place over several days and is basically an evidentiary process to establish sufficient cause for proceeding with a trial. We will hear all kinds of grim details about the murders. It was nice to start the day on an uplifting note.

Here are some pics from the morning:

Here is something Maria posted today about the celebration… I thought it was lovely:

I didn’t notice, until someone pointed it out, that David and I look similar in this photo taken at his birthday celebration at the Compassion Bench. We share around half of our DNA—go figure.
I’ve been thinking about that, sharing DNA. For sure, it means having a certain number of physical traits in common. When you combine this with growing up in the same house, you have a potential nature-nurture fit. Still, we all know or have blood relatives who grew up with us who don’t share much in common in terms of personality, temperament, or worldviews.

David and I were soulmates. Often transcending words, we had a tacit understanding of each other. We were on similar paths for a while until I chose a relatively traditional route and he devoted his life to raising awareness of compassion, moving more deeply, as time went on, into his purpose.

Still, above all else these last few days and going forward, I’m understanding just how powerful his mission was and is, and honoring those parts of us that aligned so easily, ones I now treasure and know I can’t live without: compassion, an openness to deeper meanings and connections, and an unshakeable optimism.

So, you see, when David, in his deep silence, lived so loudly, so vibrantly, so consistently, that life—that light—can never die. One starts to notice that light everywhere, like in meeting someone in person for the first time, or having a beautiful encounter with a stranger, or giving out free dessert on a sunny day, or lying in the darkness of a spare room someone provided for you in their home. Or billions of other moments that represent a life, most getting lost to time and fragile memory.

It’s noticeable in the tens of thousands of people David interacted with, many of whom shared his story with others, making an orders-of-magnitude impact. It’s there in the stories that have been in the news and talked about since his death. It’s at the corner and it was in the courtroom, despite the tragic, difficult details we heard there.

The physical David is gone, but it’s impossible to kill compassion. All of that light, all of those connections—whether they’re DNA or otherwise—echo even more loudly.

~~

And here is a picture that Carrie Dyer gave to me at the celebration… a photo taken nine years ago at another birthday celebration for David at our house! I was so glad to have the photo, as I had not remembered the event.

I brought a lotta stuff home from Guatemala, as I mentioned yesterday. Chocolate is one of those many souvenirs. Chocolate is a distinctly Guatemalan product and a source of national pride. I just found this statement online:

Guatemala is considered to be the birth place of chocolate! History says the first chocolate bar was created by the Mayans before it became an industrialized good in Britain and other countries. The Mayans believed chocolate was a ‘food of the gods’.

Rufino arranged a demonstration for us of chocolate-making on one of the days we visited his town of San Antonio Palopo. Here’s Rufino and the fellow from the chocolate shop from whom I’d purchased [quite a bit of] chocolate a few days before when we first visited San Antonio Palopo. I remember asking him in particular how the milk chocolate was, since that’s what I’d be getting for Jim. Excellent, of course, was his response.

On this day, he holds up a nice cacao specimen and talks about the steps from cacao to the more familiar consumable chocolate.

Here, he’s grinding the beans…

If you look closely, you see the bars that are sold in the chocolate shop. You also see some varieties of chocolate liqueur I wish I’d purchased! I was worried about carrying it back safely, so forwent the glass bottles..

Today, Jim tried his souvenir Guatemalan milk chocolate!

He liked it! (No surprise.) Gorgeous, isn’t it?

Unpacked today.. and got to get a really good look at all that I had acquired. I did not plan to buy a lot. But when I saw how beautiful things were and how lovingly they were crafted, I changed my mind. It is very gratifying to watch an artist at work and then to take home something they’ve made. Or.. to see a country full of color and artistry and bring some of that home to enjoy.. or to give as gifts.. or consume! So… I did all of that.

I took a Nike duffle bag full of medical supplies down to Guatemala and returned with a Nike duffle bag full of treasures. Full to the brim. It was a perfect exchange, I think. Win win win.

Here’re my souvenirs & gifts (mostly so I can remember):

Tapestries and fabrics. There are table runners, placemats, dishtowels, coasters. Some of these were purchased from weavers whom we watched as they demonstrated their craft — either using a back loom or a standard loom. Some were purchased from sidewalk vendors, at least one from a woman who chased accompanied me down the street (I was ultimately glad to purchase from her). The 6″x8″ coasters were a gift from Lance.

A pouch (from a women’s weaving cooperative where we watched them dye cotten fabrics with natural products, like vegetables, seeds and bugs), and a handbag (handmade by — can’t quiet remember her name — the chef at our villa in Santa Catarina).

Juan’s wife Elena (whom I’ll talk more about later) embroidered huipils, among other things. Four of us went home with one of her masterpieces.

Then… consumables.. Guatemalan coffee and chocolates..

I took care of a lot of Christmas shopping for nieces and nephews (and Peter and Maya, and another unmentionable b/c he reads this)… dresses, shirts, beautiful homemade paper journals.. and a carved wooden coati I bought in Tikal b/c Sally was attacked by one.

Guatemala’s known for its traditional Worry Dolls …(according to legend, Guatemalan children tell their worries to the Worry Dolls, placing them under their pillow when they go to bed at night. By morning the dolls have gifted them with the wisdom and knowledge to eliminate their worries.)

But wait… there’s more… a pottery bowl (from a studio where we learned about the process of shaping and glazing these pieces), and a gorgeous jade necklace (the photo does not do it justice). Jadeite jade is sourced in Guatemala. “The first civilization to use jadeite jade were the Olmecs, Maya and Aztecs, and jade figured prominently in many myths and folktales.” More on that later. We learned all about jade/jadeite at the jade museum in Antigua. Most of us went home with at least some jade. Also in the photo on the right.. two beaded birds (I believe they’re supposed to be Quetzals) purchased from Magdelena (who I’ll talk about later), a mug that was given to each of us from one of the schools we visited, a goofy Guatemalan refrigerator magnet (don’t ask what possessed me) and some hotel soap (again.. ).

I’m dropping a few more photos in here that show how so much of this beautiful art will live on in our home…

And finally…. the beaded bird….

Sally and I landed.. I don’t know.. a bit before midnight. It was a smooth re-entry as we’d gone through customs in Dallas many hours earlier. Ron drew the short straw and was the pick up driver. (Lol… he volunteered, as Jim had driven us down to San Francisco to start the trip.) I slept most of the way to Davis, which made it seem like a short drive home.

Ron and Sally dropped me off at the end of the driveway at 1:30am. I slowly rolled my suitcase up to the front door, let myself in, and first thing I saw was this.

Love that Jim.

~~

Jim had actually heard Ron’s car as soon as it hit A Street. Ron drives a Dodge Challenger Hellcat, 6.2liter, Hemi engine…. which means nothing to me, but I can tell you it accelerates out of an airport like nobody’s business and makes quite a bit of noise as it vrooms down your street at 1:30 in the morning.

Which means: Jim knew I was home. And duly greeted me. A nice homecoming.