ERS

In Switzerland for Edith Schaeffer's funeral, stopping in Lausanne to see her one last time, then made my way, by request, to Michael & Jack's school to take pictures. Spring was in full bloom, with magnolias, daffodils, forsythia.

 Continued along the lake to La Tour de Peilz, where Mrs S had an apartment, frequenting the nearby Italian gelato man.

 

The medieval church of Gryon, tucked up the mountains, where spring hadn't arrived - a late snow was due the next day - when Edith Schaeffer's funeral would occur.

  The beautiful interior altar with frescoes of the four apostles marked by traditional symbolism.

Alpha and Omega, the stretches of time, and an individual's life.

 

Udo spoke in French and English. The reception followed, where we'd set up tables the night before and decorated with Edith's tablecloths, platters, family photos.

 

An exceptional florist.

These carved out loaves, the interior bread made into tea sandwiches. Nice.

Guestbook. ERS's parents (top left) in their Chinese wedding gowns. Michael's drawing (right).

The next day's design.

Son-in-law, John, with daughter, Becky, and granddaughter, Kimberly, played Corelli.

 

Soon after, ERS would cross the ocean for an American service in St Paul, to be buried alongside her husband, in Rochester.

 

Carrying the coffin - not escorting it alongside a trolley - feeling that weight going down the aisle, hit home; we were burying her.

After 29 years, Francis' container, a double plot, was visible. We followed the Jewish custom, inviting everyone to shovel dirt in the grave, until filled.  She was gone. And we are mortal, awaiting resurrection.

Jack 8

 Turning 8 for Jack was squeezed between Kauai and Edith Schaeffer's funerals for us; realized that life's events sometimes collide, come unevenly, you cannot do them justice.

Jack didn't seem to notice, however, as he delved into his crepe breakfast

and evening gifts. 

Debby sent Jack books on human resolve in the midst of the Holocaust and 9/11, the Little Chapel describing the historic church left standing. The book was read aloud to the jurors in the trial of Zacarias Moussaoui, the 20th hijacker now serving life imprisonment. 

A class party at SkyHigh trampoline, a warehouse in Camarillo which kids love, was our second such party (Michael at Jungleland years ago). Usually dreary indoor site and bad pizza and definitely NOT a Carolyn affair, this one had better fare and was, well, convenient.

 

 Cupcakes is the way to go these days, with its higher frosting/cake ratio - note cupcake carrier in background.

KAUAI 2013

I've fallen behind, so this may be a photo update of our time in Kauai over spring break. A family reunion that never panned out turned into a surfing holiday, mostly at Hanalei.

Surfing lessons were the boys' one request.

Jack, too! 

These were quite possibly the best tacos I'd ever had - from a gourmet food truck hosted by a retired chef. Post-Easter, he offered lamb! mint & fresh lime curry. Absolutely a revelation and delicious, plus lightly fried shell.Witnessed this freshly prepped pig with hot lava rocks and banana leaves, buried in the ground.Beth turned us all into scrabble competitors.

Michael really wanted to bring this prize home.

Went on an adventure at nearby Princeville Ranch: hiking, kayaking, ziplining.

Prize was lunch at the lagoon.

Puff the Magic Dragon from the land of Hanalei.

Almost a daily ritual - this eccentric, temperamental lady made the best shave ice around, with the authentic azuki bean option at the bottom. Not bad.

Jack sporting a necklace - gift from Michael.

We moved to the St Regis for brunch, enjoying snorkeling at Kee Beach for more protected waters in the somewhat unpredictable northern beach. Beth flew in from St Louis, her new home.

Not sure how to understand all this aloha culture - the language, laidback vibe, sensual pleasure - except as a culture not allowed to grow-up for the benefit of outsiders. The permanent sending good vibe your way and the self-consciously delivered native language - the string of consonants - felt more like evidence of a child arrested in development.

Joan Didion's Slouching Towards Bethlehem carves an analysis of late '60s America, particularly California, containing an essay on Hawaii, as well, which was a perfect time capsule to the return of Mad Men, set in 1968 - the season premiere in fact traveling to HI.  Mahalo and Aloha.