Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #47

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on Technicolor impressions. This week, the news of the death of someone I greatly admire reached us here in New Zealand. As it happens, that news arrived almost two years to the day of her death, and for me, as you might imagine, my shock and disbelief were as fresh and painful as if it had just occurred. I simply could not believe she was gone.

So, as I have been thinking about Valerie, I have been very touched by her whole obituary, the first line of which sums up beautifully who she was and how those who knew her best regarded her. “Oh how she touched us with tips of wonder.” The text of her obituary goes on to speak about the many lives that she lovingly touched and how relationships with friends, and especially her family were so very important to her. It was a touching tribute to a lovely woman who had spent her life in the service of others.

In the novel, “Hawaii”, By James A. Mitchner, Jerusha Hale, a New Englander by birth, had been living in a very primitive Hawaii. After her marriage to the Reverend Hale, Jerusha faced a life of hardship in a strange land absent from all those she loved. Her entire life as she knew it was separated from her by a vast ocean and a life light years away from the one she used to know. One day, a ship sailed into the harbor with the most precious of cargos; letters from home. Jerusha excitedly held those packets to her breast as she almost frantically searched for a quiet spot where she could savor her letters in private. As she read, her euphoria evaporated when she realized that one of the messages contained news of her sister’s death almost two years before. Overcome with grief, Jerusha wondered at how it was that a sister whom she had loved so dearly had been gone for two I years without Jerusha ever instinctively feeling that loss. Upon opening my e-mail the other morning, I found myself having many of the same tender feelings that Jerusha must have felt. I found it curious that for these last two years, I have thought of Valerie in the present tense, not once having any inkling that she was gone. I finally found it comforting to realize that while others had been missing her, I had been able to enjoy two extra years of her being present in my mind. I am going to consider those two years a gift.

Valerie lived a very full and interesting life and she wasted no time enjoying it and the people around her. That is one of the lessons that she has left with me. At forty, she married for a second time and we used to laugh about the challenges of dating as “older women”.  Once when I asked how she happened to meet her husband and the love of her life, she simply replied that it was because she was colorful. Noticing the perplexed look on my face, she laughingly explained that she had been attending a singles dance and was standing among a group of women when her future husband walked through the door. As he tells it, he noticed the group of women, but they all appeared to him in black and white. Then he noticed Valerie and he saw her in Technicolor! What a wonderful effect to have on someone! I have always thought that that was one of the sweetest things that I had ever heard. I secretly (I guess not so secretly now) hoped that I could have a similar effect on others, as I so admired Valerie and wanted to possess some of the magic that made her who she was.

So, as I choose not to mourn, but rather to remember Valerie, I will look for her colorfulness in others. I will be grateful that I have true-blue friends and family. I will be so happy to regard those I love as inhabitants of a human crayon box, filled with differing hues and tints and I will take joy in knowing that we don’t always have to color within the lines. Valerie wore more jewelry at one time that I have ever owned in total and chose always to wear sandals even in the dead of winter because she wanted to be comfortable. And while she cared a great deal about what people thought of her as a person, she wasn’t concerned one moment with what they thought of her fashion choices. She was always Valerie. I think that it would be lovely if we could all from time to time, stand out from the rest of the crowd and be noticed and appreciated for our differences. Valerie was not afraid to be different and that is what made her so memorable. That and the fact that she could always be counted on to be there, where ever there was.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We are so grateful for the colorful characters in our lives and please know that we don’t see any of you in black and white. Actually, if I were to be honest, and I try always to be, I have mental images of most of you as a color and would be happy to share that information upon request. It might just make your day to see yourself as someone else does. Valerie seemed always to focus on what was most positive about the people she knew and while I knew her, she taught me to do the same. I will miss her, but am so overwhelmingly grateful to have known her and have been touched by her magic. I would hope that you all might have a Valerie or two in your lives, as it makes everything so much more interesting.

Love, Ward and Susan    Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand