Farewell
August 5, 2012
Celia died on Thursday night. The confusion (Sightings) is over, the contradictions (Interlude) at an end.
Alice heard this news on Friday at noon. Two hours later she had what she calls an “episode,” which means she becomes dizzy, feels weak, experiences heat and tingling in her arms and legs, and her systolic blood pressure shoots up, usually over 200. She started having these episodes after Celia suffered a bad fall and left The Place for a nursing home several weeks ago.
Alice’s doctor is working on what these events mean medically, but there is the physical meaning and then there are other meanings – perhaps a deep weariness of losses, so many in almost 97 years, and now this loss, too.
Alice was told that late on Thursday night Celia held the hand of a granddaughter, squeezed it a few seconds, said good-bye, and closed her eyes.
“How like her,” Alice said, meaning the kindness of that squeeze, the politeness and solace of that last good-bye. And then she added about her friend who suffered from congestive heart failure and whose body was overtaken every day by violent storms of coughs and gasps for air, “At least she’s not coughing any more.”
I remembered Celia’s brief note to Alice one day a couple of months ago: “Don’t you just want to scream sometimes?”
The funeral is to be held far away on the Oregon coast, so Alice can’t attend, but we’ll have our own way of remembering Celia. I found her obituary and lots of photographs of her online, so we can look at those together on my iPad. Celia lived nine decades (and then some) without Alice, so the photographs will provide images for some of the life stories she shared.
Alice and Celia experienced the same nearly-100 years. They were girls at the same time – women, mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and great-great grandmothers. They discovered each other not a moment too soon. They got the giggles together. What’s better than a friend you can laugh at this absurd world with? What’s better than someone who tells you she wants to scream at the limits a long, long life has brought, and she knows you want to scream sometimes too?
To protect privacy, I never use real names (other than family names) in this blog, and it was only the other day that I realized that the name I’d chosen for Alice’s best friend at The Place is actually an anagram of the name Alice. That trick of the unconscious fits their connection perfectly. They saw themselves in one another and loved each other from the start. (See Whatever Libby Wants – Update.)
But I just want to tell you that this woman’s real name was the same as Alice’s mother’s middle name, and every day for a year and three months, she brought Alice the comfort of a mother, a sister, a perfect friend.
Celia at 16.
Each that we lose takes part of us
# 1605
Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
- Emily Dickinson
August 5, 2012 at 1:04 pm
An anagram of Alice – but of course! Although I have never known Celia, but through this blog, I shall miss her in your writing of day to day happenings at The Place. How wonderfully you describe her passing. As for sightings, no more? I wonder…
August 5, 2012 at 1:17 pm
Glad you and Alice will do your own memorial and that her friend had someone with her holding her hand. Sad and sweet and vivid.
August 5, 2012 at 1:21 pm
My heart goes out to Alice. What a gift you have given to Celia’s family to share the story of Alice’s and Celia’s love and friendship. Blessings. Sally
August 5, 2012 at 1:21 pm
So Sorry to hear about Celia’s passing. Please convey my condolences to Alice.
August 5, 2012 at 2:00 pm
Beautifully, written, Andrea. Thanks for being someone I can laugh at this absurd life with.
August 5, 2012 at 2:56 pm
oh, my … another tear-in-the-eye posting… Thank you for introducing us to Celia and to the possibility of forming new friendships no matter how late in life.
And yes, to echo Bill, how much we treasure friends old and new to help us laugh at life and to sit with us in grief and celebration and just that good old fashioned porch-sitting shaking of heads at all that life brings our way. Thank you for being a wonderful chronicler of life and thank you for your friendship.
August 5, 2012 at 3:26 pm
A BEAUTIFUL TRIBUTE – sending my good and warm thoughts Alice’s way…..
August 5, 2012 at 3:57 pm
Soft tears as I read this, and realize how true it is that we often find each other not a moment too soon, and that life long friendship can occur in the blink of an eye or a heartbeat, and that we are blessed if that friendship is over decades or over a year + 3 months, or an hour, or even just in passing on the street. I am so glad Alice and her soul-sister had their time together. And at least she is not coughing anymore. Amen.
August 5, 2012 at 4:14 pm
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…. I feel so bad for Alice!!! The great thing is that they did find each other! and they did get the wonderful time together they had! – and that their love for one another still exists!.. Alice still has Celia’s love. I hope that is a comfort to her. Beautiful post Andrea -
August 5, 2012 at 4:17 pm
I’m so sorry, Andrea, for Alice and for you. No matter the age, a loss is a loss. And every loss is something which we must work through. The photographs are a wonderful way to keep those memories close in hand and heart.
Love to you.
August 5, 2012 at 8:13 pm
What hope & inspiration Alice and Celia have given us in finding such wonderful friends after 90 plus years. My heart goes out to Alice in losing her friend. After 66 years, I like everyone else have suffered losses, and yes, part of you goes with them. Alice & Celia have shown us that there is still enough of us to share & to love, but it does take enormous courage to let oneself be open & vulnerable again. Thanks to Alice & Celia for having that courage! And thank you Andrea for giving us their stories. I’m sure you & Alice will find wonderful ways to remember & celebrate Celia’s life. And, of course, Celia would be the name chosen – how special & so appropriate to the closeness of their friendship. We could all hope that there will be more friendships like this along our journey no matter our age.
August 5, 2012 at 8:33 pm
What a loving and intelligent tribute to a friendship as well as to a human being. I’m so glad that Alice and Celia had that time together and that they have you to tell the story of it. May Alice be comforted.
August 5, 2012 at 9:01 pm
I love how you weave the loss of a vital, late-life friendship between Alice and Celia to Emily D. and the big human question of loss. So beautifully rendered, Andrea.
August 5, 2012 at 9:53 pm
So sad and so beautifully written. A wonderful tribute to friendship. Peace to Alice and Celia.
August 6, 2012 at 5:02 am
A wonderful and beautifully written honor for the love of these two friends. How nice to meet you BFF in your late 90s! Will keep Alice in my prayers for the episodes. The body just goes into shock after so many losses. I think you are correct about that Andrea. The poem is a perfect note…
August 6, 2012 at 7:04 am
you give so much in your posts, a shoring up, an embracing, an air of acceptance and grace. this post is all of that and more. a warm tribute to celia and alice, and to all of life as we have yet to know it.
sherry
August 6, 2012 at 10:46 am
I am so, so sorry to hear of Celia’s passing. Some people we are fated to meet, and it feels as though this was true for Alice and Celia. Such friendship is a blessing, whenever it happens and however long it lasts. My heart goes out to Alice.
August 6, 2012 at 2:21 pm
still thinking about Alice & Celia after reading this last night – how wonderful for Alice to have a friend she could both giggle with and admit a desire to scream sometimes – she will be always remembered and always missed…
August 6, 2012 at 8:33 pm
How sad for Alice to lose a friend like Celia, who she could confide in on a daily basis, sharing stories of the past as well as the many small indignities of their current circumstances. The image that will stick with me is of their back and forth notes from their mealtime conversations– each comment immediately scribbled over so that no stray readers could follow along!
Farewell, Celia– we’ll all miss you!
August 6, 2012 at 8:57 pm
I’m sorry to hear about Celia. And, I’m sorry to know that Alice has lost another friend. I think we touched on this once, watching our parents as the people they know die. It’s so tough to know what to do. I hope that Karma intervenes, and Alice finds a new friend to laugh and share stories with.
Death is probably the toughest of all subjects, since we all have our own ideas of what happens “after”. I don’t take much stock in Heaven and Hell, but, I do find comfort in this (funny how you can find comfort in the most unexpected places): http://youtu.be/r-3U52TcWmE Hopefully it will bring some comfort to Alice as well.
August 8, 2012 at 9:30 am
Goodbye, Celia.
August 10, 2012 at 11:57 am
How fortunate I am to have you as readers of this blog. Thank you so much for these tender and thoughtful responses. I shared each one with Alice and she said to thank you all, and added, “I wish I could hug all of them.” So please consider yourselves embraced by both of us.
August 15, 2012 at 1:36 pm
How beautiful that they had each other…and will again. thanks for sharing this with everyone.