One Singular Sensation is a song from A Chorus Line, that without fail reminds my family of our Grammy. She loved that song, and singing and dancing to it (and we loved dancing with her). Our family, on many occasions would get in a rockette style kick line and sing and dance to it (yes, we're that kind of family). My mom is thinking of putting that on her headstone, because Grammy passed away on Saturday night. (A side note, that photo to the left is one I took in sixth grade, and was her favorite photo of herself.)
I've never been good at death (is anyone?) and it's always shaken me to the core, because, as all those cliches say, it's NOT really supposed to be that way. And it's true. It's so not. My dear, sweet, grammy passed away Saturday night. When we first found out, we really thought she only had a few months to live. But Grammy being grammy (read: stubborn), she fought for a year and a half, which given the odds of pancreatic cancer is an incredibly long time. And we were so grateful for the extra year and a half we got with her. I just finished writing her obituary, and am going to start the grand scan of photos, for the slideshow at her memorial celebration of life service. (An interesting side note, I've somehow become the de facto obituary writer for the family, an 'honor' I'm not sure I love yet.) But I understand why, it's just a hard thing to do, to try and encapsulate an entire life into a few measly paragraphs. Especially someone like Grammy, whose life was so full, even to the very end, and who words can't really do justice. I feel like I should be writing two obituaries, one the standard, form-letter type, and a second, to really try and capture her. I really tried, with the obit for the paper, to reflect and capture her, but like I said, it's hard. And grief is a funny thing, the strangest things will set you to crying, and writing about grammy has been more than enough to tip over that edge. I thought I'd be more prepared, because we have been preparing, mentally, for this for a long time, but I guess I didn't deal with it as much as I thought I had.
Here's what I wrote, when I first found out about Grams having cancer...
I've been crying for days, and it's funny (I get the black-Irish humor
from her, incidentally), because the silliest things make me laugh/cry:
thinking about the way she does this hyper-exaggerated leg uncross
before she stands up, or thinking about singing showtunes with her, or
dancing around the room with her, or her teaching me to do splits up
the wall (you might think I'm joking, but I'm not), or teaching me how
to hold a headstand. Or she and I marching around the kitchen to 76
Trombones with Bella while Ross looked on in horror. Teaching us
naughty limericks when mom wasn't paying attention. The ritual of the
Friday night dinner out. Having no one around to be the food captain.
Or being able to set your watch by her stomach. Or even realizing what
a privilege it was to have her dance me around San Marco Square in
Venice on my 30th birthday. Or thinking just how I'm going to possibly
be able to tell my girls that their oh-so-beloved Grammy is going up to
heaven. Like I said before, she isn't one of those Grandmas that you
kinda know, but don't really see that much. Grammy's been integral in our life for so long, that the thought of her not coming through our door and saying "Whoo-hoo!" anymore is killing me.
And it's true, there are all these funny little nuanced things that are all Grammy, the leg kick, the food captain, the sweetness, the generosity, the sassiness...and just how much we all love her. And how much she's poured into all our lives, and how so much of who we all are, is a direct result of who she is. I am so incredibly grateful for the time we had with her. The impact she's had on my life, the anchor she always has been for me, and how I feel so blessed that my grammy was so involved in my life, and the life of my girls. I'm going to post the obituary I wrote for the paper, and I'm trying to write a eulogy right now, for the memorial service, which we're hoping is on Sunday, and it's so hard, but I want to do a good job, because I know she's going to be listening, and she was always so encouraging about my writing. Also, for those of you who aren't local, or go to our church, Daniel's Christmas eve sermon (and his last sermon as senior pastor), he talked a lot about Grammy, which I thought was so great. It was a great sermon too, and if you want to listen to it, or watch the video,
Daniel and I talked afterward, and he asked, after the sermon, if he thought it was alright, what he had said, or even just talking about her, and I said, I thought it was great, but of course, she'd probably hate it, because she doesn't want anyone to 'be bothered,' and Daniel said, 'I know, isn't it great?!" and we had a good laugh. It's a good one, so if you haven't heard it, I urge you to check it out. He also said that G
rammy really is the best grandma he's ever known, and really, truly she really was.
On Saturday night, we went to Dominican after service, because we knew it wasn't going to be much longer, so Ross, the girls and I went, and spent about 2 hours with her, praying for her, singing to her (You Are My Sunshine), and I was able to have about 20 minutes alone with her, to talk to her and tell her everything on my heart. I am so grateful I got that time with her, because I don't feel like anything was left unsaid. Even though she was sleeping (because of all the morphine), I really feel like she heard me, the nurse on duty told me that hearing is the last sense to go. My uncle Gary left shortly after we did, and just a short while after that, she died. The nurse on duty said that it was very peaceful and calm. She also said that oftentimes someone will wait 'til they're alone to die, which knowing Grammy,and how private she could be, sounds just like something she would do. As hard as it is, and has been, our family is at peace, knowing she's now in heaven, hopefully cutting a rug with my Grandpa Louie.
Obituary for Santa Cruz Sentinel:
A celebration of the life of Patty Taramaschi will be held this week in Aptos. Patty passed away on December 30, 2006 at Dominican Hospital at the age of 80. Born in San Francisco, Patty was a resident of Santa Cruz for the past 16 years. Prior to moving here, she was a long-time resident of Menlo Park. She was employed as office manager for Beckman Instruments with a career in the medical instrument field spanning over 25 years.
Patty will forever be remembered as a gracious, generous, loving mother, grandmother, and great grandmother and her devotion to her children and their families was of paramount importance to her. She excelled on the tennis courts in her younger years, and played in numerous tennis club matches with her loving husband Louis “Louie” Taramaschi who preceded her in death in 1987.
Upon moving to Santa Cruz, Patty became an active member of The Coastlands Church in Aptos. She volunteered her time for Daniel Brown, the senior pastor, for more than 15 years, making her the longest running volunteer in the church’s history. Upon the birth of her great-grandchildren, Isabella and Sofia, Patty also volunteered in the church’s Koast Kids program to be with her
granddaughters, where she was affectionately known as ‘Grammy’ to many of the children (and parents) there.
Patty was very active; she loved taking long walks, and exercised and stretched every morning and evening. She was known as the ‘Food Captain,’ because of her insistence that her family always eat healthfully, urging them to eat their fruit and veggies. Or just take, ‘one more bite’ of their apple, or urging them to ‘just try’ this banana or that pear.
A voracious reader, Patty kept a catalog of all the books she’d read, with her own unique rating system, and reviews. She also read t he San Francisco Chronicle every day, and would often cut out articles of interest for her family.
Patty also loved music and dancing, and was her grandson David’s biggest fan in his musical and theatrical endeavors; saving every playbill and program to every musical or play that he was ever in. She not only loved the theater, she loved to sing and dance too, with her family, and while she had a laughable penchant for getting the words wrong, it never stopped her from belting a song out, or singing along with the stereo, much to the delight of her family. She had a penchant for show-tunes, and some of her grandchildren’s best memories of her are singing, dancing and high-kicking (a la the Rockettes) with her around the house.
Every Friday, for as long as her family can remember, she would take all or some of the family out for dinner. It became a weekend ritual, wherein the family could gather and catch up with one another. She was instrumental in keeping the family close and connected. Patty’s life was her family; her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. When she wasn’t found at the church volunteering, she could be found playing with her great-grandchildren; Isabella, Sofia and Maddox, all of whom adored her, or hanging out with her grandkids, or spending time with her children. When she wasn’t playing with her great-grandchildren, she was most o ften found reading in the window-seat, or sitting out by the pool at her daughter Gail’s house.
She is survived by her son, Gary Taramaschi of Santa Monica, her daughter and son in-law, Gail and Kip Jackson of Aptos, her grandchildren, Kelly McCord and her husband Ross, Grady Jackson, Lindsey Brandenburg and her husband Steve, and David Jackson. Patty also leaves her three great grandchildren, Isabella and Sofia McCord and Maddox Brandenburg. She was deeply loved by all who knew her, and will be profoundly missed.
A celebration of her life will be held at The Coastlands Church (280 State Park Drive) in Aptos, date and time to be announced. A private burial will be performed. The family asks that any kind acts of charity be made to The Coastlands Church (280 State Park Drive, Aptos, CA 95003).
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