Kindness, Loss and a Great Life

Realizing it isn't always a happy time for everyone during the holidays - this will be a bit melancholy but I promise to find a positive for us.

Curling up by the fire and snuggling with a quilt is what this sequence of early morning events called for.

I sat down to write a newsy note to a passionate car enthusiast - a car guy that my husband and I see once a year at a car show. It occurred to me that we hadn't seen him this past summer. When I went online to check if he had moved out of state, an obituary appeared. Through my tears, I could see that the online photo captured "Manny's" friendliness just perfectly. Oh, there was so much I wanted to share with him.

As I was deciding how to honor Manny's kindness, we received an email from dear Kiwi friends that while they were all attending a holiday work function, one of their colleague's home burned to the ground. Respectful of what we had been through, they cautioned the photo and video would be "hard to watch" - they were. I tried to let the flow of tears wash away the pain that I knew their friends in New Zealand would be experiencing and prayed that they could stay strong.

About an hour later, I received word that a press release for an iconic gentleman in our region (who passed away the day after Thanksgiving), had just been issued. This storyteller, farmer, mentor, and friend was someone I have worked closely with for the past 12 years - and we all missed his presence during this year's grape harvest. With a calming cup of tea, I sat down to read about his legendary and lengthy career.

"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness." ~Desmond Tutu

Several years ago I began writing a middle-grade book for girls - a story about a young girl who spends time at a car show with her grandfather and classmates. I narrowed down the car that the students were searching for and that's when I met Manny at a car show. He drove in with the car - the one that I was writing about. He came over and asked about my car and we talked for a few minutes. Then, I asked several questions in quick repetition about his car - he opened the trunk and hood, let me sit in the driver's seat, showed me the glove box, and answered all of my questions. We connected through our shared interest and I always enjoyed our encounters. Often, Manny would see my husband at the early-morning car show check-in and ask how my writing was progressing. I would arrive later in the morning and we would spend time catching up.

Manny was the first person I told that I was writing a book, gave him the name of the main character, a brief elevator pitch (the story-line), and shared my nom de plume. He promised not to share the information with anyone and always asked for an update or offered a word of encouragement about my writing. As a tribute to Manny, his name and car will be mentioned in my novel.

A brighter day with an email update from New Zealand less than 24-hours later - "The landlord has another furnished house (right next door) that they moved into this afternoon. So, with friends and strangers jumping in to help, the gals are happy and glad that they are ok. They have everything they need - each other and the support of others". They will be starting over but it will be easier to manage a fully furnished home in the same neighborhood and familiar community. A big sigh of relief here knowing they can settle right in on solid ground, especially during the holidays.

Married for 57years, our dear mentor retired in 2005 but continued working full-time until earlier this year. In fact, he proclaimed after each harvest, "This is my last year, I'll retire in January." Early on he was known for the traits that would define him for life: a sharp wit, a love of storytelling, and an energetic presence that seemed to stir the air around him - hence, the nickname "Tasmanian Devil". He shared so much, taught us well by making us strive to do better. At 84 years, Taz often said, simply and proudly, "I had a great life." His heartfelt message rang true each time he said it - goodness, we should all be so lucky.

So, in the coming year, we hope to connect with Manny's wife at the summer car show; we'll embrace the joy of knowing that the Kiwis are safe in their 'new' next-door home; and after harvest, we will celebrate with others the legacy of 'Taz' and admire his example of living la dolce vita.

Thank you for stopping by.

XOXOX