Henrietta Davis

From Retta Davis

Yesterday Trisha lost her Mom to old age.

When I was a young man I use to think that the poet Dylan Thomas expressed the correct attitude towards old age when he wrote, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Now, after watching Retta, I believe Thomas had it all wrong. No rage or anger. Just equanimity, grace, an endless curiosity and a selfless compassion for others until the very end.

She was an avid reader of my blog, but once she said, gently, "But Eric, what are you doing at work?" So I wrote about mitosis, and she and Aubrey, Trisha's Dad, plowed through the blog and the description of mitosis. They were so interested. She was still doing crosswords. Yes, now she used Google, but then again, how many people her age even knew what Google could do, let alone use it. She had bought one of the first Apple Macintosh computers, and was so computer savvy. My lord, she even used Skype to have a video chat with Trish a few weeks ago. She was 92 years old with the same intellectual curiosity she carried all through her life.

She bought us tickets to Seattle Arts and Lecture series, because she loved reading, but even more she loved being with her family and talking about reading and philosophy. This past season, after a lecture, we were in the lobby talking. We were talking about science and how difficult it was to imagine spending an infinite amount of time, an eternity, in heaven or hell, from a scientific perspective. The conversation meandered to religious beliefs. I remember her saying, "Eric the true message of Jesus was not about the afterlife, but how to live life."

She lived that message. More than anyone I know, she lived by the Golden Rule. She was the world's greatest mother-in-law, the world's greatest Mom, the world's greatest wife, the world's greatest grandma, the world's greatest friend.

She was a sage. She could see the good in almost anyone, and had a remarkable ability to accept people. I guess it was a bit of her Christian Science background, but thinking good thoughts was at her core. She had a bottomless well of generosity and goodness.

I could write about her love of invertebrates and her many hours volunteering at the Seattle Science Center and Aquarium after she retired. I could write about how much she was loved by her students when she was an elementary school teacher on Mercer Island. Indeed, so loved that some of them held a party for her years later, when they were all adults. I could write about her wit, and her humor. Once she was in the hospital, a long time ago, and was coming out of anesthesia. We were standing around the bed, and the nurse came in and asked her if she knew where she was. Well, the day was April 18th, and she launched into Longfellow,

"Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year..."

The nurse turned to us and said, "I think she is OK".

I could write about her for the rest of my life, and only touch upon the surface of her beauty.

Wow, will we miss her.

A memorial service will be held at East Shore Unitarian Church on Wednesday, November 26th, at 11:00 AM. Memorial gifts should be sent to the Aubrey and Henrietta Davis Fund at the Group Health Foundation at 320 Westlake Ave. N., Seattle WA, 98109. Send email messages to the family to rettamemorial@gmail.com

The memorial service is at
http://eric-dresden.blogspot.com/2008/12/retta-davis-memorial-service.html
http://eric-dresden.blogspot.com/2008/12/retta-davis-memorial-service-biography.html


For other thoughts see the previous post, Change.