The Celebration of Mommi Salami’s Life
1) Introduction
I’m a confessed mama’s boy…and proud of it!
I was asked to say a few words about Mum. What can you say in a few moments to properly honor someone’s life that you’ve known all of yours? Someone who was so much larger than life, gave me mine. It’s the hardest thing I have ever written. While this is from my point of view, I hope to not be too self-indulgent. Maite will probably sit sweetly smiling, cringing quietly if I trample on any of the facts and hoping that I don’t make a major gaffe. Mark and Cathryn, on the other hand, will never let me forget if I stuff something up. Mum would be proud no matter what I said…as long as I didn’t discuss her age.
So here goes…
Silence…(tapping side)…. When Mum was excited or nervous while speaking on the phone, she used to rock from side to side, tapping her side.
G’day everyone and thank you for attending this afternoon, to celebrate the life of Laura Klein De La Vega Diaz-Merry.
If Mum were here now, she would be so happy to see each and every one of you. You all had a special and unique relationships with her. She would say, “It’s so good to see everybody, but why all the fuss?” (Wave at different people with a big smile). “Oh look, there’s Roger and over there is Marrilee, there are Dana and Sonia…Oh, and look it’s Jaime and Loli”. That was mama, also known affectionally as mom, mum, or yes, mommi salami. “Call me what you like”, she’d say, “as long as you call me”.
Mum was a bright spark. Relationships to her were always close, no matter the distance. Many were enduring, even life-long. She made sure of it, maintaining contact with all those she cared for and visiting or hosting friends whenever possible. She nurtured these relationships and didn’t care if someone was young or old, black or white, gay or straight, religious or atheist. Mum was not judgmental and loved people.
I’ve heard many people who knew her comment that Laura was kind, loving, enthusiastic, effervescent, and loyal…you could throw around any number of positive adjectives to describe her, but what it all boiled down to was that she was a woman with an indestructible spirit that left an indelible impression on all of us. She dealt with adversity in private, possessing the strength and courage of someone twice her stature. Mum never allowed her personal difficulties to defeat or define her. She preferred to focus on life’s pleasures with zeal and a child-like joy.
Her body finally relented, but her spirit never wavered. She passed away the same way she lived life: on her terms, with her faith and no fuss. She continued to tick boxes, right up to the day she passed away.
Did you know she liked listening to the Grateful Dead and Amy Winehouse?
Did you know that at one stage of her life she spoke French, English, Spanish, Italian and German?
Did you know that mum’s cousin, Carlos Diaz-Merry, had been the military attaché to the King of Spain, Juan Carlos for 35 years?
Did you know that at 79 years of age, she received 2 certificates of completion for Modern Arts courses she took at the University of Madrid?
Did you know she had been a refugee during the Spanish Civil War from 1936 -1939?
Did you know that at 43 years of age, she worked interpreting on behalf of the U.S. Embassy for visiting dignitaries? This included N.Y. Senator Jacob Javits, Dr. Henry Kissinger and Vice President Nelson Rockefeller. Perhaps the most important was then recently appointed President Gerald Ford, with his 180 person entourage.
Did you know that Mum had a sister named Ma Carmen. She was born in 1934 and sadly passed away a year later.
Did you know that Laura studied at the German school of Madrid, just as World War II began?
Did you know that Mum’s second cousin Margarita was the former Queen of Bulgaria and then later the first lady of Bulgaria?
Mum was a faithful Catholic all her life, but was interested in all religions. She used to attend Temple on Saturdays with her dear friend, Shirley Singer. She valued learning about other cultures, languages and religions because she was that open-minded.
She rekindled her love of opera, attending many with Woody in San Francisco, and later on, watching them on his new large screen TV. After the operas in S.F, they would stop for their obligatory In n Out Burger on the way home.
She developed other traditions as well: the afternoon coffee with Bernard and Mark, before they had their guitar lesson or her Bible study with Carol.
Mum and her friend Blanca would see each other as often in Madrid as in California, even though she lived in Southern California. Everyone was always well received by Mum, whether visiting her in Spain, the U.S. or Australia: Mark Taylor, Mark Berry, Jaime, Ingrid and Joe, Joan Mathews and her daughter Julia (one of the relies from Australia), the Sells and the Meyers (stop press AND COLLEEN)! all were shown Mum’s hospitality and Madrid. Mum believed that hosting a visitor was the next best thing to traveling oneself. Her good friend Arlene accompanied Maite and Mum to Australia for our wedding.
Mum loved exploring thrift stores in Portland or Santa Rosa, always searching for unexpected treasures. Likewise, she loved the Rastro flea market in Madrid. You never knew what could be found.
She loved to collect wooden fishing boats, knitted sweaters for practically everyone and constantly tortured herself every year mailing out Christmas cards to all. We know of several people who received their Christmas card last year posthumously. She loved history. The historically poignant moments she witnessed were numerable and fascinating. As matriarch of our family, she painstakingly collected and preserved artifacts of our family history. She constructed our Spanish family tree, and saved old letters from her youth. This was no easy feat considering all the moves she made and different places she resided. These items continue to be invaluable to further understanding our family’s history and learning more about Laura’s story.
2) Mum’s Story – Childhood
Laura was born in Madrid on July 5th, 1933 to Manuel De La Vega and Ma Carmen Diaz-Merry. She spent her earliest years on the outskirts of Madrid in a neighborhood called El Viso, an area originally developed to house blue collar laborers outside the city center. The opposite occurred; it quickly became one of the most sought after neighborhoods of the wealthy because of the large plots and Bauhaus style architecture. Mum’s uncle and father built two 4-storey chalets around 1935, next door to one another. In late 1935, Laura’s mother wrote a letter from El Viso, describing her fear as she heard the approaching artillery fire, between Republicans and Nationalists as the Spanish Civil War erupted. She feared the uncertainty and gravity of the time and for good reason. Laura’s father, an engineer, received a phone call from one of his colleagues that lived in the area, imploring him to flee immediately with his family. Madrid was under Republican control and was the heart of resistance against the Nationalist forces. The Nationalists, led by General Francisco Franco, represented the military, the Catholic Church and much of the intelligentsia as well as the support of Hitler and Mussolini. The Republicans, on the other hand, fought for a second Republic and consisted mainly of blue collar workers, artists, writers and more liberal minded citizens. They were also supported by communists, the American Brigades and Russia. It was a bloody war that pitted families against families, brothers against brothers and atrocities were committed by both sides. Whether because of fear or revenge, the Republicans had begun to arrest and execute the intelligentsia in Madrid. Laura’s father, heeding his colleague’s warning, took the family that day and hid them in the basement of a bar called Chicote on the Gran Via for several days. The owner sided with Franco and had been harboring Nationalist sympathizers. Mum fled with her mother and aunt to Valencia, took a ship to southern France, and then crossed back into Northern Spain to San Sebastian where they remained for the duration of the war. Mum was 3 years old when she became a refugee. Her father, who had been less fortunate, was captured by the Republicans and imprisoned on a ship off the coast of Barcelona. He would later learn that his colleague, who had initially warned him to flee, had been captured with his family and executed. Although mum’s family had fortunately escaped the clutches of the Republicans, they endured many hardships during the war. Supplies were scarce and suffering abundant. Mum grew up considering soap a luxury, food was hard to come by and never wasted, and she didn’t eat any sweets until later in her life as they simply did not exist. The war shaped mum’s life. She was always thrifty and grateful for everything she had. We all know how much she loved her sweets.
During the war, mum had been given a little brooch of Mussolini that she wore as a child. She was of course too young to realize that he was the Italian Fascist leader and an ally of Hitler. Maybe that is why Maite and I developed an interest in politics from a young age. Maite’s first spoken and frequently repeated words were, “DE Gaulle, DE Gaulle, and DE Gaulle”.
The war ended in 1939 with a Nationalist Franco victory and mum’s family was once again reunited in El Viso. The house had been ransacked and left in a poor state. The new Franco regime, that her father sided with, was strict, conservative and Fascist, lasting 40 years. As a result, Spain became insular and isolated internationally as freedom and free thought were under siege.
On January 20th, 1941, when Mum was 7 years old, tragedy struck the family again. On a rainy evening, Laura and her mother were crossing the main thoroughfare of Madrid, now known as Ave de la Castellana. They were struck by a streetcar, her mother was killed instantly and Mum was hospitalized to recover from her injuries. Initially she was not told of her mother’s death, returning home to El Viso and a new family dynamic as her father had remarried.
Mum had a tough childhood, there’s no sugar-coating it. What amazes me is how she emerged from her childhood seemingly unscathed. Her spirit would’ve been severely tested, yet never tainted or tarnished. It would have been understandable had she grown up bitter and resentful, but that was just not part of her makeup. She got knocked down, but would just get up again.
Adolescence
Mum’s parents had always encouraged her to study languages, in part, to be able to assist her father with his business dealings. She was enrolled in the German school of Madrid as World War II broke out. She would tell us that at the time, they would have to sing German songs and salute the Fuehrer each morning. Although Spain had not committed to the Axis, they still sided with them.
At age16, she was sent to London to learn English and then to Switzerland to master French. Spain was recovering slowly from the Civil War and few people enjoyed the freedom of foreign travel. Her father had been a rare exception and for a young woman like Mum, it was unheard of. Nonetheless, she had been granted permission.
Back in Madrid at age 18, she studied nursing and was eventually placed to work with a craniofacial surgeon. During surgeries, the equipment was provided electricity by pedaling a stationary bicycle. She was able to work and get her exercise simultaneously.
Because of her language studies, she began to work as a secretary for the principal of a school for U.S. Air Force dependents in Torrejón, the U.S. Air Force base in Madrid.
When Mum met Dad
In 1958, she met Lauren Klein, a civilian photographer for the U.S. Air Force and was later married at St. Agustine church in Madrid. She had broken her fair share of Spanish hearts, but I think with our father, she shared a great sense of adventure. He gave her the opportunity to further explore the world.
In May 1959, Mum and Dad celebrated the arrival of Maite in Madrid, where she was later baptized.
4 months pregnant with me and with a 20 month old toddler, they departed Spain for California. They endured a trans-Atlantic trip by sea, and then crossed the continental U.S. by train, finally arriving in California to meet the in-laws. Imagine the state you would be in after such a long, arduous trip, complete with toddler and 4 months pregnant! Then, no sooner arriving, you get to meet the in-laws you don’t know, but are supposed to like and, more importantly, must like you!
Mum always had success in that department. She was so sincere, charming and engaging that people fell in love her in no time. We spent countless hours either hanging out with my dad’s family in West L.A., or their visits to our house in Whittier.
Our Grandfather came to the house for dinner most Wednesdays. Mum used to experiment a bit with her cooking. So when Mum asked Grandpa if there was anything he didn’t like to eat, he mentioned not being too fond of rabbit. Mum, thought, “Hum, he hasn’t tried mine”. So under the guise of “roast chicken”, he ate many a rabbit dinner. In fact, he used to say no one cooked roast chicken like Mum and often requested it! I don’t know if it was to be polite, but he ate rabbit for several years!
My Grandpa shared a big stucco duplex house with our Great Aunt Jerry in West L.A. One day with Mum, Jerry, after parallel parking the car, got out and grabbed both of their purses, before going to open the front door. Mum, who was still on the sidewalk, was grabbed from behind and around her neck. She yelled up to Jerry, “I’m being mugged and he wants my purse!”. Jerry, a little naïve, replied, “Does he want mine too?” Thankfully, it didn’t take the fellow long to get on his way with the two purses, but he did get Mum’s Green Card which caused her years of grief to replace.
Dad was studying for his PhD at Stanford when in May of 1961 I joined the family. I was born right there at Stanford Medical Research Center. In 1965 he had an opportunity to work on a project for the Peace Corps….One that entailed moving the entire family to remote San Miguel de Carangas, in Bolivia. The eight months we lived there, left a huge impact on all of us, even at our young age. We lived in an adobe hut, in a small primitive village at a tremendous altitude. It was so remote it took an entire day’s drive to even reach; it had only one access road traveling in a single direction and was hard to locate on a map. If Mum wasn’t trying to figure out how to cook the mutton just slaughtered behind our adobe house, she was removing hundreds of cactus thorns from one of our legs, or constantly helping dad with either her nursing or translating skills. She was a tough broad and her spirit confirmed it.
I remember one day piling into my Dad’s Jeep with Maite, Mum, Dad, a doctor and a nurse. We made the harrowing trip down the mountain and across the Pampa on a drive to the capitol, La Paz. The day-long drive ended up taking much longer. On a bumpy portion of the Pampa, I leaned on my Dad’s shoulder from the back seat, causing him to swerve and hit a bump too fast. Luckily, the only injuries were a broken arm of the doctor and some stiches on the nurse. We were, however, stranded in the middle of nowhere for some time before finally being picked up.
I remember Mum repeatedly telling the story about when she and Dad had been invited to an U.S. Embassy function in La Paz, Bolivia. After driving all day, Mum only had the dirty clothes on her back and a pair of old tennis shoes she was wearing. Nonetheless, she attended this formal Black-tie event with government officials and dignitaries.
Mum with two Kids (1967 – 1973)
In 1967 our parents bought a house in Whittier in a semi-rural neighborhood. She really felt at home there. We always had pets: dogs, cats, rabbits, turtles, iguanas, birds and gold fish. We also enjoyed great birthday parties with all our friends in the pool, Piñatas, barbecues etc. What kid wouldn’t have loved it? Plenty of commotion was made as mum would go all out for us.
One afternoon bobbing around the pool with Mum, who loved all creatures great and small, she spotted some insect doing the backstroke in the pool and not very well. Mum being Mum, she cupped her hands in an attempt to rescue the little fellow and yelled out, “God Dammit, it’s a wasp!” Don’t think she ever attempted another rescue.
Whenever I got out of hand, and I know you are all thinking “surely not Pablo”, I knew it would lead to the eminent wooden sandal. It would begin with Mum giving chase while wielding a thick, menacing and accurate 10lb wooden sandal. It was raised and ready. By the time I had managed to outrun her I had some good red sandal marks that made sitting down a challenge!
On one particular day, I was hanging out with Mum in the front yard. When I looked toward the garage, I saw a stationary roadrunner on the roof. “Mum, look a roadrunner!” Don’t be silly”, “Roadrunners only exist in cartoons”. She was able to look up in time to see it clearly as it ran across the roof. Not much was said later, but I suspect she didn’t doubt me as often.
The Sylmar earthquake of 1971, was the most frightened I ever saw Mum. She had never experienced one before. She grabbed us both to situate us all under a door frame and then called on her faith to get us through it. We watched for what felt like an eternity, as dishes and glasses flew out of cabinets breaking as they crashed onto the floor. We watched the pool water slosh back and forth until nearly a foot of water had been lost. That was the advent of a previously unknown fear. You never took things for granted again.
Mum used to like taking us and our friends to the movies at the Whittwood theaters. She had decided to take little 7 year old Pablo and 9 year old Maite, to go see “Bed knobs and Broomsticks”. As we watched, I noticed a pained look on Mum’s face. I couldn’t understand why. We weren’t watching a horror film….and besides; I enjoyed “The Graduate”. “Here’s to you Mrs. Robinson….” The best part was that she let us stay and watch the entire film! In the end, it probably just amused her.
As kids, Mum would take us to Spain for the summers, mostly spent in Gandia with our cousins
Mum had always enjoyed a wide and varied network of family and friends wherever she lived. I think that by 1973, she wanted to live back in Spain. Maite hadn’t started high school yet and I was still not in Jr. High school. Our first year in Madrid, mum put us in an English School, King’s College.
Mum had to buy us each an elaborate and expensive school uniform that included a heavy, bulky trench coat for cold Madrid winters. She had organized a holiday for the three of us to London for a week. We saw the original operetta Jesus Christ Superstar, visited Oxford and Shakespeare’s birthplace at Stratford on Avon, the Tower of London, etc. It was a great time….until Mum found out on the flight home, that we had both conveniently forgotten our trench coats in the hotel. From that time onwards, whenever the trip came up, it would include Mum’s displeasure about the coats.
We lived in the Centro Colón, a 13 story condo building right in the heart of Madrid on the Plaza de Colón. We lived in a unit next door to her father and step-mother for three years. That’s when Mum started working for the U.S. Embassy in immigration, processing Cuban immigrants on their way to the U.S. After her first year she began interpreting for visiting dignitaries.
By 1973 Spain had only recently introduced the automobile, less than 20 years earlier. Spain, at the time, was restrictive, conservative and vindictive, while heavily supported by the Catholic Church and the Military. Every May 1st, a Military May Day Parade was held that passed down the. Avenida del Generalissimo and through the Plaza de Colón. Bleachers and V.I.P. viewing areas were erected to see all the military hardware, tanks, cannons, riot trucks, etc. From our second story window we could see the spectacle better than most of the hundreds of thousands of citizens on the street. They were uncertain times and you could sense the tension on the streets. Franco had aged and had not yet named a successor that is until he named Carrero Blanco as his Vice President. He was a conservative Catholic of a military background. He attended the same church every day for 7 am mass, located just behind the U.S. Embassy. In the meantime, E.T.A. (the Basque terrorist group) had been busy bombing indiscriminately around Spain, killing police officers, military and unlucky civilians. On the first day of Christmas vacation 1975, Mum rang us at home in a panic. There had been an enormous explosion near the Embassy and she told us not to leave the house because they didn’t know what had happened. Mum said the whole Embassy shook and reminded her of the earthquake in California. What had happened was, E.T.A. terrorists, disguised as utility laborers had buried 300 lbs. of T.N.T. under the street the church was on. Because Carrero Blanco never altered his 7 am mass, E.T.A. sent him, his driver and his limousine up and over 5 stories and into an interior courtyard. Franco again had no successor and the situation remained tense and uncertain.
Then Vice President Gerald Ford was the U.S. envoy to the funeral of Carrero Blanco. After the death of Franco, Ford returned as now President Ford, shortly after Nixon had resigned. Mum spent an entire day searching Madrid for a king-size bed that President Ford had requested, to no avail. They simply didn’t exist at the time in Madrid. She also had to find him a secure church to attend with his 180 person entourage. When they arrived with their expensive suits and big black cars, Mum had to explain to the frightened nuns why he had chosen their church to attend.
As always, Gandia was a sanctuary from all the chaos and crowds. We spent every summer there with aunts, uncles and cousins.
Most days were spent on the beach until 2 pm, when we would get all lined up, wrapped in towels. We were expected to kick off our wet bathers and put on dry clothes without falling over. I hated it, the sand getting into all the wrong places, not to mention the humility. This wasn’t done in the U.S. Another thing I disliked was that only speedo type bathers were available. I hated the idea of wearing “budgie traps” or “nut huggers”. Mum took pity on me after a good chuckle, and sewed some snaps on the fly of my boxer shorts. Problem solved.
On occasions, we would have lunch right on the beach at one of the several Paella shacks on the sand where the whole family could sit at picnic tables to eat, while staring at the sea. The beach house itself had been in the family since my Grandfather bought it in 1967.
Maite and I, now 17 & 15, wanted to return to the U.S. to attend high school. Six months later, Franco died and the Monarchy was restored in Spain.
Back to the U.S. – 1976 - 1995
When we returned in 1976 to Whittier, California, Maite was a junior in high school and I was a freshman. Mum started to work as the chief translator/Interpreter for the Rowland Unified School District. I think she might have preferred to have stayed in Madrid, but as usual, she was willing to sacrifice anything for our happiness. She would attend all my football games even though she probably struggled to understand the game and would watch me play, in between her fingers with her hands covering her eyes. She went to every game.
Mum knew most of our friends and their parents as well. I introduced her to a new group of friends and their parents one day in 1979. A group of us had decided to cut school on “senior ditch day”. We were hanging out at a closed down jr. high school, drinking beer and smoking pot when we were suddenly surrounded by 7-8 cops with their weapons drawn. After much denial, we were all arrested and taken to Whittier jail. We were released one at a time, entering a room where all the parents were waiting to pick us up. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Houlahan, this is my mother Laura Klein; hello Mr. and Mrs. Folkes, this is my mother Laura Klein”, etc. until everyone had been formally introduced.
During my formative years, Mum endured 2 arrests, a couple of serious car accidents and a DUI, which had me incarcerated for three days in a West L.A. jail without her knowing my whereabouts. Grey hairs were my specialty. Mum took the big things often better than the small ones, but she always gave me the space and enough rope to hang myself. After barely graduating, I cleaned up my act
After high school, Maite studied at Whittier College and shared an apartment with Mum. I had moved down to San Diego to study. Mum used to love coming to visit me in San Diego as it was more relaxed, with lovely beaches. The same reasons she loved Gandia. Mum attended both our college graduations: Maite, made Mum so proud. With me, she felt a sense of relief that I had given up my life of crime. After college, Maite moved to Northern California and I continued living in San Diego. Mum never complained about the extra travel involved in visiting us, in opposite directions.
In 1991, after 5 months in Melbourne, Australia, I met Cathryn. Once I had returned to the U.S., I told Mum that I had just met the girl that I was going to marry. She had gotten used to me falling in love with a different girl every week, but by 30, I had never seriously considered marriage. Mum’s response after painful consideration, “Couldn’t you meet a nice girl from Bakersfield?” She didn’t even want to fly down for the wedding, but thankfully, Maite intervened. “He’s your only son so pack your bags, we’re going!” At our outdoor wedding, as Cathryn and I shared our first kiss in front of everyone, Mum shouted out, “It’s like the Close-Up toothpaste commercial!” She had a great time, immediately becoming a hit with Cathryn’s family while exploring a new country. They took her for “Sunday Drinks” with the Relies, a group of long-time friends of Cathryn’s parents. They also adopted her straight away. She even spent time at Joan Mathew’s parent’s farm in Tasmania. Joan and her daughter Julia also visited Mum in Madrid. Mum often spoke of her solo trip to Tasmania as one of her favorite destinations ever. She would tell us about eating fresh crab in Hobart, sitting right on the pier. Mum made 3 extended visits to Melbourne in 1992, 1993 and 1995.
Spain
Australia and the U.S. – 1995 – 2000
After 1995, Mum was sharing an apartment with Maite in Madrid. She had been trying to replace her stolen Green Card. Two years had passed since losing it and finally Maite wrote to Congresswomen Diane Feinstein, explaining that Mum had lived in the U.S. for nearly 30 years and had two children born there. Once the process had begun to acquire a new card, she was obligated to not spend more than six months outside the U.S. Living in Spain, she was forced to return to the states every six months so as to not lose her eligibility. She would fly to N.Y. or Philadelphia and spend a week at a time. She eventually received a replacement after spending a small fortune traveling back and forth. In the end, she decided to apply for citizenship which she received in 2001.
2000 – 2008
Her father passed away on September 20th, 2001 and she had inherited both the El Viso and the Gandia properties, the two places that meant the most to her. El Viso had belonged to her mother, she had grown up there, and even Maite and I had resided there. She also adored Gandia because of its proximity to the beach and the many memories she had created there.
On September 13th, 2000, we converged on Maite and Mark in California for their wedding. Mum flew in from Spain and Cath and I came in from Australia for a great day. I think Mum was so pleased that now both her kids were happily married.
In 2003, Cathryn and I moved, with our 10 year old Doberman Rosey, to Madrid. The trouble was that by this time Mum was renting a small studio loft with no room for 3 adults and a Doberman. It didn’t matter; she opened up her residence to us, for 3 months, without ever complaining. Because the loft was up narrow stairs, Rosey would sleep downstairs with Mum and the two of us slept upstairs. Cath and I would laugh at night in bed as Mum would battle with persistent Rosey, “On your mat Rosey, on your mat! No Rosey, off my bed, on your mat Rosey!” Most mornings they woke up together. You guessed it, in her bed!
I’m surprised she ever put up with the three of us. After tolerating this untenable living situation, Mum was committed to helping us find an apartment in Gandia. We rented a place for a year while Mum had decided to renovate the beach house. Along with my good friend Miguel, who was a painter/tiler and knew other professionals in the industry, we had promised to help her with the renovations.
One afternoon, as Cathryn and I watched in amazement from the balcony, she emerged from a flashy silver corvette with a slick fellow wearing gold chains around his neck with a leather-skinned tan. Turned out, this was Mum’s new general contractor, Chimo. Talking her out of using him proved fruitless. She wouldn’t have it. They got started with the renovations and, after several months, completed the beautiful transformation. Mum took even more pride in the house now, telling everyone how she had renovated her beach house. To this day, 15 years later, virtually all of Chimo’s work, remains in great condition. Who knew? Mum did, I guess.
She now began to focus on her property, El Viso. The Chalet had been rented out to a pilot with Iberia airlines for nearly 27 years. They considered it their property after living there so long and took the liberty of renovating parts of the house to suit their needs. They payed less rent then Mum did for a 1 bedroom apartment on Corredera Alta De San Pablo. It ended taking Mum six years to get them out. She was unwilling to relent and fought hard in the courts. She started with the local court and they unanimously voted in her favor. The squatters appealed and the case was sent up to a community court. This court took ages to hear her case. In the meantime, through their lawyer, they told Mum that if she agreed to pay them 35000 euros, they would leave. Mum, insulted and indignant, refused. After a couple of years, the court, again, found in her favor only to have them appeal once more. She then took the case to the Spanish Supreme Court and after a couple more years, the court heard her case and found in her favor a third time. The bastards had finally exhausted their appeals and had to vacate, but had managed to stay for an additional six years. With her house back, she was able to move in, but by court order, could not sell the property for three years. Maite and I took turns flying over to help her with the move and making the house habitable. She lived there for several years and loved it. El Viso represented so much history for Mum. First as a toddler when her mother could hear the artillery fire from the terrace; then having to flee for their lives from the house as the Civil War broke out; Coming back to El Viso after the war to find it completely ransacked; shortly after, her mother was killed and she returned home to a step-mum and a new family dynamic; subsequently fighting for the property to be part of her inheritance; then six years of legal battles and later, the stress of selling it in 2014. No wonder she enjoyed the time she lived there. Her mother’s spirit was there and she had fought so hard not to lose it. She later sold the property, with mixed emotions, in 2014.
In 2007, Mum bought her condo in Portland. She loved it and considered it to be the property that was solely hers.
In 2008, I took Mum to Berlin for her 75th birthday, a destination she had always wanted to visit. We spent 6 days there and had a great time together. She had dreamt about visiting the Brücke Museum in East Berlin, so we caught a train one early morning to the outskirts. Problem was we could not figure out how to purchase tickets: Mum’s German had deserted her and I was clueless. When the train pulled in we simply hopped on as a pair of stowaways. We were concerned about getting caught, but laughed like a pair of idiots the whole way there. Thankfully we got away with it.
Mum diagnosed with Breast cancer
In 2009, Mum was diagnosed with stage 4 Metastatic breast cancer, shocking us all and changing her life. She moved in with Maite in Santa Rosa where she began an intensive treatment regimen. She never demonstrated much fear, rarely complained and with her child-like spirit seemed almost fascinated with the whole process. She did struggle with the huge amount of pills she was now required to take. She had these enormous Potassium pills she battled to swallow. When a nurse showed her how to swallow them, she was so proud of herself, bragging to everyone about her ability to tackle them. The daily medication and constant doctors visits took up a fair bit of her time, but she refused to give in. That strong spirit she had, once again paved the way for her.
Signing up for a Silver Sneaker gym membership included a health questionnaire. She asked Cathryn what to say about her health status. Cathryn told her to write: “in perfect health with the exception of stage 4 breast cancer.” The two of them laughed about it. She used to collect “Dummies” books including the Torah for Dummies and Computers for Dummies. I asked her if she had found a copy of Cancer for Dummies and we laughed about it.
For the 8 years she had to put up with the pills, physician’s visits, numerous tests and procedures, including a surgery, her outlook never wavered. She didn’t suffer too much with side effects and certainly refused to let it slow her down. There were times when you almost forgot about her health issues. She just accepted it as her new reality with such dignity.
Me and Mum
I’d like to take a moment to thank Mum’s wonderful and skilled team of physicians, nurses and other health care workers, many of whom cared for her from the beginning of her battle. Particularly, Dr. Wes Lee, her fantastic Oncologist, who ensured she had quality of life and state of the art care He and his staff communicated well with us at all times and was one of Mum’s favorite doctors. Also, Dr. Leo Smith, her Primary Care Specialist, Dr. Brad Drexler, her OBGYN, Dr. John Robinson, her Dentist Specialist for Chemo patients and Dr. Root, Internal medicine. After telling Mum about taking special gummy bears to ease her problems going to the toilet, everything improved. Mum believed that this simple solution had enabled her to return to Spain. Dr. Root maintained that pooping was one of the five vital signs.
Special thanks to my tireless sister, Maite. Mum will be up there, getting into St. Peter’s ear, “My daughter gave me the best care for the last eight years and beyond.” “I’m so proud of her!” You couldn’t disagree with that. Maite has worked her tail feathers off to ensure that Mum was always looked after, that she had support, was organized and able to focus on herself rather than the disease. Had it not been for Maite, this journey would’ve been much harsher for us all.
Thanks to Mark for his consummate patience and calm demeanor, always there to oblige Mum or cheer her up. He would drive her to and from church or take her out for the day. Not out of obligation, but because he is considerate and enjoyed Mum’s company. How many people live with their mother-in-law or would be willing too? Mark and Cathryn come to mind.
Thanks to Cathryn. She always went out of her way to please Mum, taking time with her to just chat as friends. Cathryn enjoyed cooking dishes Mum especially liked, styling her hair for her or helping her out with her technological struggles. They both gave a lot of themselves to support Mum.
Mark and Cathryn, like all of you here, had a special and unique relationship with Mum, independent of Maite and I.
Mum meant so much to me. Growing up, she became both mum and dad. Later on, she became one of my best friends. The point is, she was always there for me in one capacity or another: to look out for me, to care for me, to consult with me, to teach me, to duke it out with me and to laugh with me.
We always enjoyed walking together. In fact, I’ve walked on 4 different continents, in 6 different countries with Mum. When I started walking in earnest, it was because Mum at 68 years of age, walked the Camino in Northern Spain and attained her Certificate. She kept trying to persuade me to walk it until 2013, I finally listened. In 2017, I walked the Camino a second time with Cathryn. One of my last promises to Mum was, as per her wishes, to scatter her ashes on the Camino. Later this year, Cathryn and I will fulfill her wishes. Mum was even at the finish line of the San Francisco Avon 39, to walk the last hundred yards with me. I know now that I have to walk for the both of us, but that I will never walk alone.
We used to enjoy travelling together. Have done so all my life. Our first trip together was when I was still in the womb as she traveled to the U.S. We also traveled to Spain for the first time when I was a 2 year old and dozens of times since. In our family, someone was always travelling or moving. When Cathryn and I were leaving Gandia after living there for 4 years, she asked me if I would ever like where I was living. It’s not that I don’t like where I live, it’s just that moving around is all I’ve ever known. Both my parents had wanderlust. We were doomed!
Lessons Mum taught me (by example).
She exposed me to Spanish culture, our heritage and instilled in me a deep passion for Spain.
She taught me to “Think Globally, While Acting Locally”. We always considered Spain, the U.S. and Australia as home. We weren’t tourists so living there never felt foreign. While you were living somewhere, you should always get involved and participate locally. If Mum was in the U.S., she was volunteering or an active member of the Sierra Club and also took yoga. When in Spain, she would take Modern Arts classes through the Prado Museum.
Mum taught me about sincerity, honesty and tolerance. She believed in “Live and Let Live”.
Growing up with two great women, I always believed that women could do anything they put their minds to, equal in every way. I learned how to treat women with respect, there was no other way. It never required a second thought. I was taught about unconditional love and loyalty. Mum taught me how to drive and would even loan me her car to practice. Most of all, Mum taught me about following your passions and nurturing a strong spirit.
I miss the small things….”I feel like a Murder”, she would say implying she wanted to watch a Dateline. When she would ring me, she’d say, “Pablo Klein, this is your mother calling.” Whenever she would bruise herself, she couldn’t wait to show someone her new “blue and black.”
We taught Mum an aussie saying for when someone was hungry, “I’m so hungry, I could eat the crotch out of a low flying duck!” Because Mum couldn’t remember the entire saying, she would simply say, “Duck, Duck!”
If Mum were here today, she would say, “Let’s eat, people will be getting hungry.” “Duck Pablo, Duck!”
I thank all of you for being here today. I hope you can take away with you today, a piece of Mum’s spirit to keep in your heart. I also hope, I can encourage everyone to please write an anecdote of your own relationship with Laura on her website. Thank You.