My cousin Eunice died on January 31

Eunice died on January 31. 2009  in Bethlehem, PA. Her children notified me by e-mail. I had met one of her daughters, but her other children were known to my only by her reports. I last saw Eunice a few years ago when I attended a restorative practices weekend in Bethlehem. (For some stupid reason it took me a while to catch on to the reason why everyone called it the Christmas town.) She treated me like royalty, hiring someone to drive me into the city each day from her home. We had a great time together. Funny how little difference years make, and it had been years since we saw each other. 

Eunie was tethered to oxygen in her front hall, but it didn't slow her down much. She even had a tidy carrying case so she could take her oxygen with her when she went out. At bedtime she carried the "tether" up to her bedroom. Every morning she spent time on her stationary bike before heading downstairs. There she spent the day in a sunny bright room that had been added on to the original house. Her office/home base was a table provided with everything she needed to stay in communication with people and to do her work for her Lutheran church. She did have a helper who shopped, cleaned, and cooked for her. (At least, that's my understanding of how things were.)

Eunie's red hair and freckles never disappeared, advertising the Irish side of her heritage. To me, she was my younger cousin, but not by much. Back in Forestville we enjoyed a large Anderson family -- playing pick-up-sticks at Aunt Gerda and Uncle Everett's -- enjoying weekend camping with them at Hammonasett State Park (my spelling may be wrong) -- getting special treatment at church when missionaries came and dressed us up in native costume -- helping to fill the home of Grandma and Grandpa Anderson at Christmas time. Grandma knit each of her grandchildren a pair of mittens every year, and each of her children had a lovely quilt made by her own hands. We played with my neighbor and best friend Hallie who predeceased Eunice by several years. But Forestville sent its people out far and wide, so at one point there were twenty-five years between times that Eunie and I saw each other. I surprised my self with the burst of tears when I heard she had died.

There weren't many people for me to notify when I got the news: my sister Thelma, My cousin Joy, my niece Nancy, and Hallie's widower, Murph. And there is Eunie's big brother in Florida to whom I wrote a sympathy note. We/I used to be part of a big family. I tell people that, being the youngest of the youngest, most of my cousins were old enough to be my parents, and they are long gone.  Actually, I am the youngest of the youngest on the Gustafson side, but Eunie and her mother were the youngest on the Anderson side. This is not a sad story. I'm so happy to have been part of that bunch of Swedish Lutherans. Maybe there is other nourishment that's better, but the strength of a large caring group of relatives certainly ranks high.

Eunie did believe she would be joining her husband and all her family and friends. I hope she's having a wonderful reunion, free of the need for the oxygen tether.

Travel Woes and Pleasures

I have taken it as a personal affront that Northwest merged with Delta. I think I can understand the need to charge for luggage, but the rest of it was not so great.  Back in the old days when I purchased a flight through Northwest all I had to do was click on the link they sent to my e-mail 24 hours before flight time and, with no problem, I could check my seat assignment and check in. Not so this December 16. It took me an hour finally to get the Delta confirmation number which was different from the one I'd received from Northwest. Part of the problem was that they insisted my first name is not "Mona." It turns out my first name was "Monagms." Now just try to pronounce that. The lovely man at the curbside check-in tried, with a smile. Of course, it was an amalgam of "Mona," plus the middle initial "G" plus my "title" - Ms. Sometimes when I'm required, against my will, to give a title, I'll use Dr., but I certainly don't want anyone in a medical emergency on the plane to think I can help. Maybe someone can explain to me why I can't just be Mona G. Affinito. Oh well.

I won't go into more detail -- boring. Suffice it to say that there was no "uniformed representative at the end of the jetway" as promised, and making connections was -- shall we say -- not terribly successful. Those reps I did find were hassled, overworked, and -- understandably -- cranky. Twice my luggage trailed me by a day, and once I stayed overnight in Atlanta at Days Inn. (Well, that was a computer problem at Atlanta airport.) But here's the good part: I met Ed (A real southern gentleman who hadn't lost his manners, though he had lost his accent) and Ankie, trying to get back home to Amsterdam. Days Inn provided their van to drive us to "Joe's" where we enjoyed a bottle of wine, purchased, chosen, and served by Ed, as well as a first course of Calamari. The burgers were dutch treat, and the company delightful. I didn't get more detailed information about Ed and Ankie, but I did give them my card, asking that they look for Mrs. Job. To Ed and Ankie, if you do happen to see this, please let me know. You were such a pleasure in an island of annoyance.

I want also to say that the passengers were, though tired and frustrated, a really patient lot. And my return trip from Portland, Maine to Minneapolis was a delight, thanks to the very pleasant Northwest agent who lengthened the time spent at the Detroit airport between legs of the flight. And I do love the tunnel there.

Oh, by the way. Delta still served peanuts and pretzels.

Williamsburg was a great Christmas experience with family, and Portland was a wonderful place to welcome in the New Year with friends from (gulp) as far back as 1947.

All in all, TGIJ. January and February, cold and snowy as they are, provide a great opportunity to settle in and catch up -- or even get projects going.