19 Months Later: Finally, Auntie Rose's Memorial

First, the memorial video I made, which I tried to embed into yesterday's Twitter digest using the provided code by my OneDrive link (where it can still be viewed in its entire, unbroken 20-minute duration; I had to split it into two parts on Flickr due to the length but that at least allows me to embed it successfully here): This video was finished on August 22, on time for the originally rescheduled date of August 28 for Auntie Rose's memorial service in Port Townsend. Mind you, back in early 2020, before we even knew there was a pandemic coming (we knew there was COVID-19, but that was nowhere near the same kind of knowledge), the first scheduled date for this memorial was March 21, 2020. That would have been barely more than one month after Auntie Rose died, on February 19 of last year. On March 11 of last year, Valerie posted to Facebook with an announcement that the memorial would be postponed "so we can all gather to truly celebrate her." She then provided a link to the Port Townsend Leader obituary, at the end of which was the line, "There will be a church memorial followed by a celebration of Rose’s life in Port Townsend this spring. More information and a way to let us know if you would like to attend is at https://tinyurl.com/rosehorvath." At that link, you could sign up basically for an email mailing list to get notified of when it would get rescheduled. Well, we all know how that went in 2020. It was months—and months and months—before we got notice of the memorial service being rescheduled, as the spread of the virus got worse and worse over 2020, then progressively better over the first half of 2021 as vaccination campaigns ramped up. Finally, on June 30 of this year, Valerie asked if I was free for the memorial to happen on August 28, and of course I said yes. On August 3, official email announcements were sent out for the August 28 date, for a memorial finally happening, at that time 18 months after Auntie Rose's passing. But, then mid-2021 had its own plans as well, namely the Delta Variant, something we all, again, knew about back in June but had no real idea of what kind of impact it would have. On August 23, Valerie sent out another email that it would be postponed yet again, specifically due to the Delta variant. This time, though, it was noted that the new date, October 2 (that's yesterday), was etched in stone: rain or shine, in-person or if absolutely necessary virtual (or ideally, both), it was going to happen. When Shobhit and I thought we were going to be driving to Port Townsend in August, it was Shobhit's idea to make a day trip of it and drive up early and do some local sightseeing around the town. I decided we would make that the plan for October 2 whether the event wound up being strictly virtual or not. I was much relieved to find out it was going to be a hybrid, for multiple reasons. First, I decided I was going to Port Townsend for the day regardless—as part of my personal experience of honoring Auntie Rose—and it it were to be virtual-only, that would have all but guaranteed that I would miss the actual ceremony, unless we found a coffee shop whose wifi we could use or something. And second, the hybrid approach is ideal even for non-pandemic times, so people who cannot make it for whatever reason can still patch in. It was another email from Valerie on Thursday (September 30) that confirmed it would indeed by hybrid. The service would be held outside at the church, with room for about thirty people to attend, but masks were still (thankfully) required. That said, I did not realize until we were actually there that "memorial tributes" from anyone who wanted to say something would happen after the outdoor service, inside the church hall. It still had a mask requirement, although people who stood up to speak took them off for that, and they had many doors open for ventilation. I decided I would roll with it; I wasn't about to walk out of Auntie Rose's memorial, and as I keep saying: based on the information at hand currently, this still left the risk level at a minimum. I'm not sure how much that was also the case for the predictably many very old people there, and I can only hope they were all vaccinated. But anyway, I'll get back to the memorial tributes portion momentarily. First, I have to back up a bit. Shobhit and I aimed for leaving yesterday morning at 9:00, and actually headed out at around 9:30, which was fine. There was supposed to be a "kinetic sculpture race" in Port Townsend yesterday which Valerie told me about, and had been canceled of course in 2020 but until recently was on for 2021—I had hoped we could go check that out as a local event, but I checked their website last week and it had been canceled yet again due to the Delta variant surge in virus transmissions. Shobhit has been to the town briefly before, when we once drove Auntie Rose home after her Birth Week lunch at our place, but he's never really explored the town. He didn't really get an opportunity yesterday either, but that's really because of me. I went looking for things on Google Maps, and saw the state parks in the area, and it occurred to me to make more use of our Discover Pass. I had heard of Fort Flagler State Park, which is right across Port Townsend Bay from Port Townsend, and at the north end of what I only this weekend discovered is Marrowstone Island—a 6.3-square-mile island which, incidentally, has three state parks on it! I decided we should go there first, and check out these state parks. Quick side note: Marrowstone Island is actually on the far side of another island, the 4.3-square-mile Indian island, apparently whose "census designated place" designation (neither island is incorporated, or has any towns officially designated as such) is combined with that of Marrowstone—the combined population being 844 people as of the 2010 census. I guess only 44 of those people are on Indian Island, none of them civilian residences as the entire island is a Naval Reserve.  The thing I don't get is why Indian Island and Marrowstone Island are named separately rather than being considered just one island, as they are connected by a narrow strip of land at their southern ends. Oh wait, I guess I take it back—this is very odd: Google Maps shows them drawn as connected, and yet when you click on "satellite view" is clearly indicates what must be very shallow waterway—but water nonetheless—that runs between them, and under the Flagler Road bridge that runs over it. Why does Google do that? I don't get it.  Huh. Well, apparently that bridge is very new, having been built only last year to replace what used to be a causeway and restore what is a "salt marsh," the marsh presumably being what runs between the two islands and cuts them in two. Assuming the salt march was always there, that would mean Marrowstone Island was always an island. But! Indian island was not, because the Port Townsend Ship Canal that separates it from the mainland is man-made, over a century ago. Check this out: In 1915, Indian Island was isolated by dredging of Chimacum Portage to make the Port Townsend Ship Canal/Portage Canal. In 1952 the Indian Island Portage Bridge was built to replace the ferry to mainland. This area was historically known as the Craven Peninsula before Indian Island was separated from the mainland. So anyway, we crossed one bridge onto Indian Island and then another onto Marrowstone Island, and headed north, at first thinking we would go to Fort Flagler State Park at its north end first and then work our way back. But, since we saw that Mystert Bay State Park was right along the highway and clearly small enough to be a short stop, we went ahead and stopped there along the way. You can see the park across the water beyond the boats in the shot taken from the highway in the photo above, but you can also see the full photo album on Flickr here. That album contains 20 shots, although admittedly only 12 of them are of the park itself. I included the 8 shots I took on the way there from home, including several of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in fog, and one of a spooky doll greeting people at the entrance to Total Wine & More in Silverdale, which Shobhit wanted to stop at to see if he could find former employees he was fond of he used to work with at the store at Interbay. They weren't there though. So then: on to Fort Flagler State Park, by far the biggest on on the island (1,451 acres, as compared to Mystert Bay State Park's 18 acres), which we went to and found a picnic table right by the beach across the water from Port Townsend (which you can see in the distance behind us in the photo above). We packed sandwiches (which I made and which were delicious I must say), homemade potato chips (which Shobhit deep fried himself in the morning while I was getting ready), pumpkin spice pretzels as a dessert snack from the Interbay Total Wine & More, and chai that I had also made before we left (that's what we're both holding cups of in the photo). We didn't do a great deal of exploring of the park, although once we parked near where we picnicked we did walk for a while along its rather lengthy beach, which stretches all around the narrow north end of the island. The weather was a bit breezy and slightly chilly, making me worry a little bit about the outdoor memorial service coming up, but then the sun came out and warmed us just enough. Honestly, in the end, the weather made for a perfect early October day, and I had a truly lovely time eating lunch there. Google Maps indicates another state park at the southern end of the island, Kinney Point State Park, but thinking we would make just a very quick stop for a few pictures, on our way out of the island we tried two different roads to it using the Maps GPS app, only to wind up at what looked like dead ends either way, or that we would need to walk the rest of the way, which we did not have time for. So we finally bagged that idea and rushed off the island and around and up the peninsula to Port Townsend to make it barely on time for the memorial service. I did just discover something in my online research while writing this, though, As in: Oh— You'll know you've arrived at Kinney Point when you see the kayak rack. This unique "parking" feature invites you to pull in, hang up your kayak and play! This Marrowstone Island park property is only accessible by beachable watercraft, and the wide pebble beach disappears at high tide; hence, the rack. I guess that explains that then. Now to the memorial service itself, which finally, actually happened! After Valerie and I had our own sort of mini memorial with just the two of us back in April for my Birth Week at Fort Worden State Park (which is in Port Townsend proper), I remember her mentioning how nice she was finding it to be having any kind of memorializing for her mother, finally. Looking back on that comment, I don't want to speak for her, but I have a feeling this event finally happening yesterday provided her with at least some measure of much-needed closure. This was also an unusual memorial service for me, in that I did not know the vast majority of the people there, and the vast majority of them did not know me. Although, in the case of no fewer than four of Valerie's in-laws I had once met at Auntie Rose and Uncle Imre's 50th Wedding Anniversary Party in 2013, I kind of forgot that I had known a few of them, at least a little bit, in the past (and I am still Facebook friends with two of them).  Also, there were more people there than I expected. When Valerie had noted that there was space for about 30 people, she must have meant in addition to her family—because at one point I did a quick count of all the people seated in the area just out front of St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Port Townsend, and there had to have been at least 50. That did include maybe, I don't know, five people from the church: the minister, someone else who would come up and lead in prayers; a singer next to the piano player, etc. Like I do for all family gatherings, though, here's a roll call—of at least the people I do know: 1. Uncle Imre
2. Valerie
3. Scott, Valerie's husband
4. Nick, Valerie and Scott's son
5. Ava, Valerie and Scott's daughter
6. Peter, Valerie's brother
7. Kim, Scott's sister
8. Jane, Scott's aunt
9. Carol, Jane's partner of 36 years
10. Scott's mother whose name I forget
11. Aunt Penny (Dad's sister)
12. Tammy (Penny's daughter, my cousin)
13. Erin, Tammy's husband
14. Shobhit
15. MeI later discovered there was another six people joining via Zoom, watching the ceremony but then visible on a projected screen once we were inside: 16. Dad
17. Sherri
18. Aunt Raenae (Dad's sister)
19. Uncle Paul (Dad's brother)
20. Jennifer (Paul's daughter, my cousin) The sixth was a woman whose name I also forget, who Valerie said was Auntie Rose and Uncle Imre's neighbor. Since Dad and Sherri and Aunt Raenae were all at Dad and Sherri's house and thus on one Zoom feed, they collectively accounted for four feeds, as the neighbor, Uncle Paul an Jennifer were all on solo feeds from their respective homes (both Uncle Paul and Jennifer either in or near Shelton).  This would mean that, counting the virtual attendance, the total in attendance for Auntie Rose's memorial service, I would estimate, was around 56. As it happened, Dad and Aunt Raenae were going to be there in person, and they were even on their way, but they had to turn back due to a downed power line that created huge backup on Highway 101. Dad called me later, right after the event ended, and explained that they would have been about 90 minutes late had they still come the rest of the way, and so they turned back. After some initial technical difficulty getting the Zoom link to work, they finally did get patched in. I don't know how much of the actual service they missed (which was effectively a church service, although the minister, who happened to be a lady, did mention that Auntie Rose had actually planned this service out on her own before she passed; I meant to ask Valerie how long ago Auntie Rose had planned it and I forgot), but by the time we were inside the church and the projected Zoom feeds were on the wall, I saw that they were there. I even commented to Valerie how I was glad to see them because I had been told Sherri was unable to get it to work, and suddenly I heard Sherri from off camera say, "We can hear you Matthew!" Shobhit commented this morning that although Dad had told me he would insist on wearing a mask in the car with Aunt Raenae driving there, because Aunt Raenae straight up refuses to get vaccinated, they clearly let her visit them in the house, none of them masked. I don't necessarily consider this some huge inconsistency, though. After all, before vaccines the guidance had long been allowing for visits from people from one other household, and this still applies; also I'm guessing Dad considers the house and being in the car for several hours with someone to be different scenarios. (If there were a risk of transmission they really would not be all that different in either case, but, whatever.) Besides, they had intended to come to the service in Port Townsend and couldn't make it, and I'm sure Dad would never just tell her "Sorry, you have to go home now!" Aunt Raenae did speak briefly about Auntie Rose over Zoom later, and it was clear she had her own special relationship with Auntie Rose, so I'm glad she was still able to participate in the service in some way. Anyway, most of the seats had been taken by the time Shobhit and I arrived. At that point I did not yet know Dad was not making it, so I found myself searching in vain for his bald head amongst the masked faces. Some chairs were brought out for overflow seating up on what was effectively a porch that was raised up above most of the rest of the attendees, which actually made for a good angle to get several pictures during the service: you can find the full photo album on Flickr here. (I took about eight photos or video clips from that spot.)  After the service, which took roughly an hour, it was around 3 p.m. when we were directed inside to observe or participate in "memorial tributes." I turned to head in amongst the first people, except that I then got kind of pulled slightly away from the crowd just outside the side entrance everyone was going in, by Jane, Scott's lesbian aunt who I had met at the anniversary party in 2013, and Facebook friended shortly after. I still remember her because I have seen occasional Facebook posts by her in the intervening years, and as Shobhit was still living in Los Angeles in 2013, it was the first time they got to meet each other. Then, Scott's sister Kim joined us, and she remembered me vividly but I did not remember her at all, although I discovered I am indeed also Facebook friends with her, also since the party in 2013. She said I friended her after we had spent some time chatting at that party. She totally understood my not remembering her, though, as I had no regular reminders online: "I never post," she said. I checked her profile this morning and she was not exaggerating. Oh, and at one point Scott's mom joined us as well, also reminding me that I had met her at the anniversary party. Scott saw us all chatting and came to join us for several minutes as well, all of us with face masks on and only occasionally having difficulty hearing what each other had to say. Finally, we made our way inside the hall, where we found baggies of Auntie Rose's famous almond cracker cookies, and postcards of Port Townsend for us to take and mail to someone in her honor. Oh, shit! I just realized as I was writing this: when Shobhit and I volunteered to help break stuff down at the end of the event, I set the postcard down on a table, and I totally forgot it. So, I never did bring it home. Dammit. Oh well, what are you gonna do? There were tables for banquet style seating, with the Zoom attendees projected onto the front wall. There was also coffee provided, in which Shobhit happily partook. In the Before Times I suspect there would have been a lot more food, but there was just the little bags of cookies and a box of candy for people to take, plus the coffee. And once people started to settle, the Memorial Tributes started, which began with Valerie's. She had it all written out and it was very well done and touching, comple with what she called "a video poem," including a few clips from my own memorial video (which I told her she could take whatever she wanted from, to use however she wanted).  An older gentleman who had been sitting at Shobhit's and my table got up to speak next, starting what would become a trend: church friends who were happily roped into all manner of volunteer jobs of one kind or another by Auntie Rose. After he sat down and there seemed to be a lull in people volunteering to go up, I said, "I'll go," and I got up to speak. I didn't have mine written down thoroughly like Valerie had, even though after I found myself to be slightly less than eloquent when trying to speak at Grandma's memorial service ten years ago, I really thought for a while that I would. Instead, I had notes on my Notes app on my phone and I just referred to that, going through the evolution of my special relationship with Auntie Rose, starting with that fabled weekend in Seattle in 1992 (which takes up fully half the 20-minute video I made), on to the Downtown Christmas Decorations tour of skyscraper lobbies that we did in December 1995; the three years I spent overnight stays at their house in Port Townsend between 1998 and 2000; and the following twenty years of her annual Birth Week lunches with me, plus usually another lunch in October. I also had to mention the emails she would text me wishing me "Happy Sea Monkey Day" or "Happy National Pancake Day" or the like; this and a couple of other things I mentioned were also touched on in Valerie's talk, in which she mentioned me by name. Speaking of which, I did nearly get moved to tears during the earlier talk with Jane, who went out of her way to tell me how often and how fondly Auntie Rose spoke of me. She told me Auntie Rose would tell her "I'm having lunch with Matthew and we always have such a great time," or something to that effect, and it really warmed my heart. I did think about my own mom a few times. Auntie Rose died all of five months before Mom did—Valerie and I lost our mothers the same year, something we have more than once kind of commiserated over. I did make a mental note not to talk about my own mom yesterday, though. This was about Auntie Rose and her family, not me and mine. (Can you believe it? I recognized that someone else's memorial service was Not All About Me! What will I think of next?) That said, she did come up very briefly when mask mandates and vaccinations came up in that conversation with Jane and her partner. It was relevant and it came up that my stepdad had died of COVID just this past July, only the next day after he was taken to the hospital and also the day after I even found out he had it. The Delta variant has really changed the game when it comes to how many people have gone a long time without either testing positive themselves or knowing someone who got really sick or died. Mom's death had nothing to do with COVID (neither did Auntie Rose's) and just happened to happen in the middle of it, but COVID was indeed what ultimately did Bill in. Anyway, one other thing to mention: Ava, Valerie's daughter, gave me a hug as soon as she saw me when we came into the hall after the service. She complimented me on the video I had made—which Scott had done as well, briefly, right after Shobhit and I arrived. Although I sent Valerie the video back in August right after the last postponement since the video was done, she did not get around to watching it until this past Friday, admitting to me that she's a procrastinator—but then she kind of live texted it to me, asking for copies of certain photos, telling me how the clip of her with Chee-toh's made her laugh, or that the video was making her cry. Ava told me yesterday that Valerie had watched it once and then had Ava watch it with her. It sounds like now that Valerie has watched it once, she's watched it multiple times. I'm really glad she appreciated it; I'm rather proud of it, and I am particularly proud of the title I came up with, La Vie Aunt Rose. I nearly forgot to mention "Eidelweiss," the song from The Sound of Music that Jane and Carol sang and encouraged the attendees to sing along to; I got the entire performance on video and sent it to them (as well as to Valerie) later. This was apparently long a favorite song of Uncle Imre's, and this performance of it really made him break down. As I often thought about Bill after Mom's passing, Auntie Rose being gone is easily hardest on her husband, and I really do feel for him as well. The only time I actually spoke to Uncle Imre was briefly as Shobhit and I were leaving. He shook my hand, as he always does whenever he sees me. He is originally from Hungary and really never lost his accent, so I regularly have a really time understanding what he says to me, but I did put it together that he was expressing how special my relationship to Aunt Raenae was. I even noted in my own speech, there in a church, that when Shobhit and I got married—and I pointed him out—Auntie Rose was the single person from her generation to attend. I never forgot that, and always deeply appreciated it. (That was also in 2013.) Shobhit did mention later that the people on Zoom probably weren't able to hear me very well. and when I spoke to Dad from the car after we left, he confirmed that it wa very faint, but that he was still able to hear me. I know the whole thing on Zoom was recorded, and I haven't decided yet whether to see if I can get my hands on a full copy. I'm not sure I need a recording of the whole thing. Anyway, at first we tried to help with stacking chairs, but found out the ones we were stacking could be left where they were. Shobhit helped break down a table or two, and then we helped the minister and Scott take down the ropes holding up the canopy that had been over most of the people outside during the service. I had kind of hoped to get Shobhit to see Fort Worden State Park, and it didn't even occur to me to visit Auntie Rose's grave again (as I had with Valerie back in April) until Shobhit mentioned it this morning, but Shobhit was then in kind of a hurry to get to the Kingston Ferry—which had lines of cars long enough that the posted wait was one hour. Shobhit was sure for some time that we would make it on the 5:30 ferry, even after the lady in the booth said we wouldn't. But, we had to wait until the 6:10 ferry to get on, and in the meantime we went to a nearby creperie to get a light dinner. We share one savory crepe which was quite tasty, and he later got a slice of pizza from a nearby place that we shared as well. Then we got on the ferry, sailed for half an hour and got some more very nice photos (some of them through binoculars), stopped for gas at the Costco in Edmonds, and drove the rest of the way home, arriving at around 7:30. Ivan was eating his dinner, so we saw him for a bit before he left for work. And Shobhit and I watched the final two episodes of Squid Game on Netflix. [posted 1:04 pm]