All things must pass

On February 28, 2009, our friend Reva died. She was a volunteer at the Culver City Library, where Patrick worked for many years. She also worked there when I worked there as a teenager in high school. At the memorial for her that we attended yesterday, someone said she had volunteered at that library for three decades. I had no idea she had been there that long.

She was 88 years old when she passed away. The last time I saw her was in October, when we had lunch with a bunch of Patrick's old co-workers for Reva's birthday. Her health took a pretty major downturn after that, and while Patrick talked to her on the telephone, we didn't make it out to visit her. I'm pretty sure she understands.

I still wish we had gone.

Reva was a great lady. I had no idea she was 88, though she did have many health problems and had had them the whole time I knew her. Somehow she seemed kind of ageless, though she was on oxygen, used a walker, and later, a wheelchair. She had a full-time caretaker. But she lived in her own condo, and as far as I could tell, was bright and lively as always. Patrick was her own special computer guru; he built her machine and he taught her all about her computer. She would call him up or he would go to her house, and the two of them had a special appreciation for each other. When her family at the memorial found out who he was, they all said, "Ah! This is the Patrick!"

I just did a google search for her name, and found a question she had posted on a gardening newsgroup about geraniums, another question she posted elsewhere about powdered milk, and yet another question about needlepoint. How many 88 year olds do you know using newsgroups? And she started way back in the 90s when this stuff was new to most of us. She and I both loved to read, and when Patrick would go to her condo to work on her computer, a couple of times I accompanied him and oohed and aahed over her collection of books. She gave me many suggestions and recommendations (most notably, the Jasper Fford "Tuesday Next" novels, which are a lot of fun).

She touched a lot of lives, and though we were not as close with her as most of the people I met yesterday, I feel very lucky to have known her.