At Last...

It's been unbelievably hard saying goodbye to Tash!

Here at last is her obituary and memorial celebration info:

Katherine Smith Livingston Memorial

https://www.katherinesmithlivingston.com/

We plan to keep her website live, her memory fresh.

After the memorial celebration on March 17th,

we will add photos and videos of that event to the website,

along with stories and photos you've sent us –

keeping her as close as we can.

Please stay in touch!

Letting Go & Leaving Behind

Katherine leaves behind...

Children who have learned at her knee and beyond, how to manifest corn chowder from a scanty larder, when to say “I” and when to say “me,” the critical importance of not ending a sentence with a preposition, the appropriate uses of adjectives versus adverbs.

She leaves children and grandchildren who remember her insistence on good manners and proper grammar, and who remember her voice as she read to them: The Little Prince, The Wind in the Willows, The Velveteen Rabbit, Through the Looking Glass, Tom Sawyer, The Secret Garden, and Now We Are Six.

She leaves behind half a jar of marmalade, 3 dozen crumpets, 2 cans B & M baked beans, and Boston brown bread made by an Angel, tied with a yellow ribbon looped around a sprig of juniper. She leaves a mix for making Pamela’s gluten free corn bread, “Little Hotties” hand-warmers, and hand knit mittens given to her last winter by Spring Creek angels.

She leaves a tall willow basket piled with scarlet throws, blue and garnet shawls, and wraps and scarves in a rainbow of colours. Pendleton blankets, gifts from progeny of Chief Joseph, solemnly placed around her shoulders in respect, admiration, and honor, are left behind.

She leaves sepia photographs with faces in them that we may never be able to identify, black and white shots of teens cavorting on the shores of Lake Tahoe, and a photograph of herself playing Lysander in Miss Branson’s school play.

She leaves a case of root beer for next summer’s floats, a stack of glasses fashioned from corn silk, (said to decay given enough time and sun and water), and Panda All Natural Soft Black Licorice in crackly yellow and grey packaging.

She leaves faint spidery lines taking the shape of her signature at the end of a letter dictated to, and committed to paper by, her amanuensis. She leaves the echo of her resonant voice unhurriedly reciting Yeats, Tennyson, Wood and the Psalms.

She leaves photos of grandchildren and children tucked into the edges of her mirrors: babies with cheeks like cherries, toddlers smiling through stray strands of hair, second-graders grinning into the camera on the first day of school, teens dressing for the school dance. Weddings, births, graduations…all are here.

She leaves her sewing basket with scissors, bees wax, pinking shears, lengths of elastic bands, clothing tags with our names embroidered in flowing script, cerise thread, and blue and brown and black, sewing needles of various sizes tucked into a small paper envelope, strips of lace, and extra bits from trimming....something. She leaves a silky smooth papier maché heart, and hanging from it, a shiny brass key, held there by a narrow pink silk ribbon. And a dark blue glass nazar to protect her from the evil eye.

She leaves coffee mugs that say Montcrest School on the sides, and include a block design of the original school-house. She leaves piles of size 12 shoes that so often seemed not quite long enough for her foot, but far too long to satisfy her yearning for small feet.

She leaves a chest of DVDs of her best-loved movies: Moonstruck, Quartet, Forrest Gump, Tootsie, Sordid Lives, Casa Blanca, Rain Man, The Big Lebowsky, and Key Largo.

Endless linear feet of books: leather bound volumes, paperbacks, hardcovers, art magazines, galleys. Some with notes, questions, or exclamation marks in the margins. Poetry, fables, fairy tales, essays, philosophy, religion, cartoons. She leaves them all for us, that we may continue to ponder the paradox and the puzzle of life on this plane.

She leaves behind the cold in her hands, the wind that made her shudder, the politicians that made her despair. She leaves the sound of her laughter watching The Colbert Report,  the sound of her held breath watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman arrive in the nick of time to save a life.

She also leaves, for all of us, imprints of her kindness, her compassion, her wit, her phenomenal memory, her gentle touch, her intolerance of intolerance, and her wide and unconditional embrace. And so much more...

And She's Off to a New Adventure.....

Tashie died peacefully this afternoon shortly before 3 o'clock. The window was open, the lilting sounds of the creek coming through on the breezes - or zephyrs, as Katherine would say. Her beloved mountain shone bright white against the deep blue of sky. She is deeply loved, and sorely missed.

The immediate family had a small gathering on Sunday. A memorial is to be scheduled, probably in the new year.


“You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them...In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Another Peaceful Night

Another peaceful night, with Kitty guarding his Tashie, snuggled in the crook of her elbow. Every few minutes he reaches out and gently pats her cheek with a soft paw.












The sky is just now deepening its blue. Cloudless.
A few nights ago, when Tashie was still speaking, she asked if a fire was burning in the living room. It wasn't, so we started one, and she was well pleased. So last night, Philip created the living room ambiance that Tashie would have liked: roaring fire, many candles on the mantlepiece, twinkly lights draped over the windows. The living room version of her room, minus the roaring fire.
I read to her passages from The Little Prince, one of her very favourite books. “You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them...In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh.”

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning...

Micah guarding his beloved Tashie

Tashie spent a peaceful night, looking serene and beautiful, and I trust feeling the love coming from far and wide. Guardian Micah spent the entire night close to her, alert and watchful. every time I peeked from my "camp bed," he was sitting straight up, looking out, as if to say, "I'm keeping watch, you can relax." Then when I got up and dressed, he jumped down, took care of his hygiene, had a little breakfast, and then settled down for a nap in his basket at the foot of her bed.

Sainte Mère Eglise from Melissa

The mountain sparkles this morning against a deep blue of sky. The fluttering leaves of the aspen are green towards the tops, then bands of oranges, and then the reddish hues closer to the ground. Winterish sun hitting the ponderosa bark is....well, the familiar and most beloved rust colour.

Bob-O sat right next to her and started singing a song they used to sing together, and Philip and I could see a wisp of a smile come and go.
Shauna, our hospice nurse visited, and it is again worth noting how her presence and skills and gentle touch are easing this rite of passage, both for us and for Tashie.

Autumn Afternoon Unfolding

As Tashie rests comfortably in her pink silk pajamas, a gentle autumn suns streams through her window, filtered by swaying leaves. The Jack-O-Lantern has been overcome by the heat of the candles, and is outside now, leaving just the candles and the little lights. Her golden slippers are at the foot of the bed, where they have been since Sunday. Her soft and friendly rabbit Harvey has stayed close by as well. Terry brought in a tray with the customary orange juice, a crumpet with butter and marmalade, and a latté. The spent the morning by the bedside table, just in case they should be needed. The kitties are staying very close. Micah stayed the night with Tashie, either cuddling or sitting sentry on her bed. Siddhartha is more timid, especially when Micah dismisses him with a look that says, My time...

A Peaceful Night

Mabsie's photo of upriver just last week

A peaceful night. Kitty stood sentry throughout. We feel the love flowing our way from your hearts, your letters, your words, your history of connection with Tashie / Katherine, and with us. Thank you so much.
The morning is unfolding smoothly, and Tashie seems comfortable and at peace.  Greetings with tender messages from literally all over the world arrive, and we read bits to her. I believe she hears the warmth and love and support, and feels it in her heart as she continues packing for her journey.