Three weeks after Dad passed over to the Other Side, our family hosted a Celebration of Dave’s Life at his house in Nederland, Colorado. We did not know who would come or how long they would stay. After all, our only experience was hosting an open house for my brother Matt’s much-beloved wife, Mary, who died of cancer six years ago.
We provided entertainment and foods/punch/coffee for a crowd, though, to be safe. Elizabeth and I were up late cooking. Kathy had stayed up very late, expanding her PowerPoint slide show. (It was a BAD night to lose an extra hour of sleep for Daylight Saving Time!)
All the Nederland-Leicester clan–McDowells and Wolfskills–were up early this morning with last minute cooking, cleaning, and arranging. Out-of-town Leicesters Matt and Laurel stopped by a longtime favorite family-lunch rendezvous, Fazoli’s, to pick up a commemorative batch of chocolate chip cookies. Geoff arrived early to help prepare the house. He got the honor of chipping ice off the driveway, bless him. (We put a “putting green” of Astroturf over the glacier across the breezeway, where the roof and frozen gutter were dripping gaily in the heat. No one got hurt today, ‘whew!)
The extra parking provided by Nederland Public Works at the corner near Dad’s house. (This photo is from a few days later; during Dad’s party this was gravel.)
The Town of Nederland Public Works Department had plowed an extra parking area nearby for the family’s six cars, opening the driveway for visitors. We still overflowed onto the street; thank heaven the weather has been delightful for a week.
The family arrived, with flurries of activity. Matt set up the music compilation of Dad’s favorite Americana songs; Kevin set up Kathy’s slide show to loop through the television. I remembered to set out the reduced copies of Dad’s beautiful map of the Switzerland Trail.
Dad’s famous 1996 map of the Switzerland Trail Railroad.
By 1:30, with half an hour to wait, we were all relaxing together around the TV, enjoying Kathy’s and Matt’s programs and each other’s company. All the Dave Leicester clan, including Wolfskills and my McDowells, were together, a rare occurrence. Being together and all focused on the same event at the same time felt so right—togetherness, loving and fun, thoroughly contented.
Daughter Laurel, father Matt, & Geoff –all official Leicesters, like Dad–catch their breath before the party begins.
Elizabeth, Devin, and David–the McDowell contingent–also relax across the room before the action begins.
Then someone (Matt or Devin?) noticed a car arriving. At once, we all jumped up and went into action. Someone (Geoff?) called out, “Places, everyone!” We all laughed as we finalized the last preparations. It was indeed show time!
The next few hours were wonderful. Repeatedly, family and guests were reminded of how many people appreciated Dad AND how many wonderful people were attached to him. No one at the party knew very many other people, but we all enjoyed meeting each other. The party was an open house; we assumed people would come and go on individual schedules. Well, they arrived on different schedules, but most people remained for the rest of the party!
The contingent from the Caritas Spiritist Center, from the left: Kathy, Rosemary (dream group facilitator), Gloria (owner, mentor), and me.
Dad’s admirers included the leaders of the Nederland Area Historical Society; neighbors; caregiving friends from Home Instead, Meals on Wheels, and Hospice; my sister Kathy’s coworkers; autocrossing friends of all my siblings; hiking and meditation friends—and dogs!
David’s snow-dog and its model, Beatrix.
I think we had four dogs on the deck for a while, all marking the snowdog David had built.
Although I had planned to keep brewing fresh coffee and put out fresh devilled eggs periodically, once people came, my mouth was running away with me, and I hardly know what happened aside from the lovely conversations that made my day. (I learned later that my children manned the kitchen, bless Devin and Elizabeth.)
Caroline, Dad’s hospice CNA, with her husband, Tom.
I was deep in a reunion with Home Instead/neighbor Shannon and Dad’s hospice CNA, Caroline, both with their husbands whom I was delighted to meet at last, when MY husband signaled that it was time to read his carefully crafted letter to Dad (which is or will soon be appended to this blog post as a long but beautiful comment). I was annoyed, but realized I would never come up for air voluntarily, and adjusted. (Which means I refilled my coffee, found a chair for Carole (meditation mentor) to rest on, and stood behind her, with her husband while David read his letter.
David prepares our guests for his posthumous love letter to my Dad. From back left, you see Rosemary (dream group leader), Pat (Kathy’s neighbor and family stylist), my handsome husband David, Rosemary’s husband Stan, Kathy, and Caryn (who took us in when the power failed, as reported here on January 5th).
David bravely began the public interaction part of the program. His letter was eloquent, historical and sentimental, with enough spots of humor to keep us from all dissolving in tears. Then he invited others to speak from their hearts, too. It took a moment to start, but then the tributes began, with some inspiring others. It was so heartwarming, with scattered tears and laughter. I don’t know how long the shared memories lasted, but they were so lovely, and I am so grateful for all the kind affection shown by so many. I sure hope Dad was listening in, too; there was a lot of love in the room for him!
Brothers Geoff and Matt spoke: Geoff mostly about how Dad greeted each day with joy and contentment, and Matt about how people all around town seemed to know and enjoy Dave. Hospice CNA, Caroline, remarked on Dad’s maintaining a positive, pleasant attitude even as his health deteriorated. Yes, everyone here agreed that Dad was always gracious.
Kayla, from the Nederland Area Historical Society (NAHS), spoke of walking with Dave as he mapped the Switzerland Trail railway across her ranch. Dad helped inspire her to take up her mother’s involvement with the NAHS. Kayla also mentioned Dad’s perfect handwriting and meticulous records, at which several people chuckled. She also appreciated Dad’s quiet charm, calling him a consummate gentle-man, which elicited a wave of agreement from the rest of us.
From the right, Dan and Kayla from the Nederland Area Historical Society then Debbie from Meals on Wheels. These three are definitely high on the Who’s Who in Nederland list–and also three of the most fun!
Erin’s house, just up the street from Dad’s. It’s hard to believe it is so old, since Erin and Colin take such beautiful care of it.
Neighbor Erin spoke of introducing herself to Dave soon after she moved in. He—not the realtor or seller–told her all about the history of her “new” house, which is the second oldest in Nederland and had been moved to this neighborhood hilltop–I think when the dam flooded the meadow where the house had been built. She spoke of walking around the block over the years: at first Dave slowed down to accompany her with her tiny dog; and then years later, she slowed down for him.
From the left, Suzanne and Shannon, local caregivers from Home Instead. Shannon worked with Dad for three years, Sue for two.
Dave’s devoted caregivers were all there. Shannon and Carole were his two original caregivers from Home Instead. (When Carole developed health problems of her own, Suzanne replaced her. Carole has stayed in touch, through our little meditation group.) They all had enjoyed his stories over the last few years and shared a few memories.
Debbie and Susan, who delivered Meals on Wheels when he could still eat “real” food, especially enjoyed delivering tasty meals to ever-appreciative Dave. (He still liked McDonalds French fries best, of course. Sorry, LOL!)
When the tributes wound down, we went back to conversations and snacking for a bit. Then people started leaving, and the crowd thinned. We could hear the music again. That reminded me to hand out copies of the recent, Grammy Award-winning CD of the Earls of Leicester, a tribute band for EARL Scruggs and LESTER Flatt, musical favorites of Dad’s.
Before everyone left, we commandeered a few folks for photos out on the deck. I really wanted to get a picture of Shannon and Suzanne. They stayed to help take our family portraits, too, while we were all together. Finally, we returned inside. Sue stayed to watch the slide show through. She and Shannon had heard many stories of Dad’s childhood and employment, and could appreciate many of the older photos.
Here’s the whole Dave Leicester clan: Caryn, Devin M, Matt & Laurel L, David & Elizabeth M, Geoff L, Ginny M, Kathy & Kevin W. Down in front is Ellie (Caryn’s & Geoff’s) and my grand-dog Beatrix (Elizabeth).
Family tradition: the famous Junior Birdman Salute, from a cartoon when we were kids. I couldn’t remember how to do it, which amused them.
The other family tradition: the family portrait with bunny ears. I couldn’t reach David, sorry. I tried.
And then, all of a sudden, all the guests were gone. Oh wow! We all grabbed plates of food at last, collapsed around the TV again, and raved about the wonderful party (and sore feet). The party was hugely successful, even more than we had hoped. David’s letter and the tribute session it inspired fed my soul—and Dad’s, I’m sure.
Geoff, Laurel, and Matt recuperating from all the excitement and emotions of the afternoon.
Yet my favorite part of the whole day was the cozy, warm and fuzzy sense of deep contentment before and after the party as the family sat together in the living room, relaxing and enjoying being together. Aah, yes, a VERY special day!
Once we recharged our proverbial batteries, we spent a rousing evening sitting, aah, and playing Apples to Apples.
Nice. You all fill my spirit. I only knew a few stories, his sweet eyes and smile. I am grateful.
Thank you Diane. You also have sweet eyes and smile and fill my spirit.
Dear Reader
Wow! I know where Ginny gets her wonderful ability for writing; like father, like daughter.
So here is the referenced letter I began composing on February 12 to Dave. I needed much time to fine-tune it and had several weeks to do so. I thought to introduce some references to some of the geography mentioned in the letter. One, the first paragraph references Boulder Park Open Space in Nederland where the family will be placing a memorial bench. Two, it was 1976 when I meet Dave at Humboldt State University, where Ginny and I met at college. Gasquet is 90 miles north of HSU and where I worked after graduation. I hope this helps.
February 12, 2015
Dearest David,
Yesterday, Ginny and I took you along on our walk at Caribou Open Space. Here, a place is filled with nature’s song and solitude, and, befitting your strong will, a grove of Ponderosa Pines amongst glacier and river-smooth boulders with the babble of Boulder Creek heard nearby. The strong, smooth white slope of Bald Mountain stands sentinel to the west, and your passion, the Switzerland Trail, edges the western meadow of Caribou Ranch’s DeLonde Homestead, one of the most restful homesteads in Colorado, where songs from the heart will be heard for many years to come. Appropriately, the tors of Golden Gate Park stand in the distance, a constant reminder of your home along the Pacific coast. Here is a restful space where your spirit can take refuge during its continued journey, and where I came to understand your love of this Nederland mountain retreat.
You have been the cornerstone on which your family so depended, and a gathering place of celebration of life and happiness, who fully embraced me with warmth and acceptance. Forever the watchful eye in the distance, I could sense the pride in watching your children grow as compassionate adults. I am so very fortunate to have become part of your family.
Not long ago I was digging in my historical archives and found a stack of letters Ginny had sent to me while I was working for the “Six Creeks” Forest Service out of Gasquet, California, my first professional job following graduation. Ginny was still attending classes at Humboldt. In one particular letter she inserted a post-script pleading earnestly for me to come down early Friday, saying: “… It is important. I don’t really know why, but it sure is. I guess its because Daddy will be here … and he’s the one I want most to meet you. You and he would like each other a lot. You’re both very important to me, and I want you two to meet…”
What she didn’t say was that she had obtained tickets for a Doc Watson concert at the university. Unfortunately, I recall little of that weekend but thanks to your musical interests, of which I had not previously been exposed, I immensely enjoyed the concert, and more importantly, Ginny was absolutely correct; I do like you a lot. Perchance, from that weekend and certainly Ginny’s persistence, it is the reason we were to become life-long buddies.
I do not recall many details of meeting the rest of your family in Sacramento. Although I must admit, my first impression was favorable; full of life, fun, vitality and chatter. One distinguishing fact was that your family was not at all like the one I grew up in. Soon afterward I was given the “fork” treatment and concluded I was officially initiated into the Leicester family.
In 1978 we moved to Seattle and fifteen years later I moved our young family even farther away, to Alaska, making our getting together much more difficult and less frequent. I enjoyed our few visits to Nederland and, from my Alaskan perspective, came to understand your newfound connection to the Nederland community.
Physical distance had limited our sharing of time together. I came to know you best through your wonderfully composed letters. Despite your restrained verbal expression, your letters came alive with a vibrancy few can match. I loved reading your witty and dry sense of humor. I also learned of your intense attention to detail and order; much of what we strive for but cannot match.
I could express regrets about not getting to know you better, but I won’t. This should have been my job, but having a similar, introverted personality and a challenged ability for verbal expression, I left our mutual comfort zone “as is”.
I wish I’d have stories to share about our time together, but at the moment can only think of the time you came to visit us in Alaska. Word was, you detested flying, so making the trip was an honor for us. Regrettably, due to my work schedule I was unable to spend time as tour guide and so had to leave that task to Ginny. The major drama unfolded when our well failed. Needless to say my focus was on figuring how to provide water to a household of seven. Due to your even, stoic good nature, we couldn’t tell if you were having a good time or not. Afterward, Kevin reported you couldn’t stop talking about your trip after arriving home. A long time later (months?), I discovered after cleaning out one of our kitchen utility drawers, your signature drawings of “Kilroy Was Here”! I understand now to my delight, your SNAFU statement (System Normal, All Fouled Up) was about the well and not of your Alaskan experience.
Your final departure today will easily be remembered. Not only for your loving nature which you retained to the very end, but also because today you share the birth date of one of our country’s greatest leaders; a compassionate human who fought for freedom and equality. I think this is very fitting for the manner in which your love so hugely touched the lives of so many.
You spirit and happiness, wit and warmth, will always have a special place in my heart.
Love, David The Other