Susie McConneloug shares:

Although very intense, it was a special blessing to be present to my very oldest first cousin, Emmy Lou Spalding, on this very memorable Christmas Day, 2012. I was on my way to have Christmas dinner with my daughter, Aimee, and her husband and family at about 3:30 in the afternoon. I had thought to bring a piece of homemade pumpkin pie, and called Emmy Lou when I was close to the  Burbank Orchards retirement center where she had lived most of these last 18 years. She had not wanted to see me for the last 1 ½ years on my occasional visits up that way. This day that Emmy Lou passed, she was very anxious, and happy I had called. She shared about some attempts to reconcile with her brother that were hard for her and was really looking forward to sharing with me. She even walked down into the lobby to greet me.

It was raining pretty hard and I was helping a little confused resident friend of hers, Dorien, come in from the weather. She shared about this funny little woman and was noticed by the other residents. We quickly went back up to her room. We proceeded to sit down on her nice couch and she was sharing again about my mother, her aunt by marriage, Mary C. Smith, . She had shared this on previous occasions on the approximately 10 brief visits I had with her over the last 5 years.

She was speaking again about how much my Mom’s attention meant to her when she was growing up. On one occasion when there were some hard things going on they had come to stay in Redlands for a while with her mother, Mabel Spalding, my Dad’s only and youngest sister. It was heartening to know how my Mom reached out to her over many years especially during those growing-up years, and would even remember her at Christmas time, in spite of the fact that she had 9 children of her own with my father. I think Emmy Lou was looking for that spirit in me, which I hopefully carried to some degree in the last 5 years that I had occasion to have these special visits with her.

It was not more than 5 minutes that we were speaking on that Christmas afternoon, and I was sharing briefly about what was happening in my life. Then, she started to have severe pains in the right side of her chest. She had never felt pains like this and I could see that this was potentially serious and she needed me to comfort her. I put my arms around her and reassured her that everything was going to be OK. I encouraged her to breathe and let go, to be in this moment. She was conscious and somewhat afraid, but mostly in pain. I just kept holding her and saying whatever I could to help her move through and be with this.

At one point, being the Nutritionist that I am, I asked her if she had any magnesium in her cupboard? She didn’t quite get it at the time, and it turns out she did, which didn’t really matter. The pains subsided, and as we were sitting there she decided she would be more comfortable going to the emergency room, and I could go onto the Christmas dinner with my family. She went into the bedroom to get changed and I called my daughter in Sebastopol to tell her I was running late, and my daughter, Bridget, who was working as a charge nurse in the Emergency Room at Marin General. As I was telling Bridget what happened I heard Emmy Lou collapse in the bedroom, and she obviously told me to get off the phone and call 911. So I did!

I tried to lay her out on the floor to check her breathing, and after about 10 paramedics and fire and police support arrived within 3-5 minutes, doing all the CPR techniques, they said she might have a little heartbeat. I don’t think she did, but I didn’t find out for sure until around 5:30 or 6:00 that she had definitely passed. I don’t think I had but about 20-25 minutes at her little home before they were carrying her out the door on a stretcher. That was approximately 4:10 PM .

It certainly was an education for me to realize what a tremendous experience it was for Emily Lou-Anubodhi to be part of the Osho and Krishnamurti spiritual communities these last 60 years. I am sad for the division there seemed to be in the family, but happy to have known such a pure person. That was my experience. I actually kept a record of my visits and many conversations with her. She was a very educated person, and she never stopped reading and being interested in world events, cultures, literature, music, the arts, the environment and health.

Susan Smith McConneloug

10/3/45

smcconnloug@earthlink.net

Anubodhi Emily's cousin Susie, her sister, Cia, and I had a small celebration of her life in the lobby of the place where she was staying in Sebastopol on Friday, Jan. 4, 2013. Susie's daughter Aimee and her husband, Joaquin and their kids Ian and Vida came, as well as Emily's two nephews, Rick and Bill with his son, Tynam; two sorority sisters, Mollie Eschen and Carla Miles (with her husband, John); and friends she had made in the community over the years.

Here's the song by her friends Miten and Premal that we played first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41EoyiGIMjo

Then we shared stories (Bill, this is the cue for your story about your brother and the lunch!) about how salty and funny and playful she was, and what a good cook, and her independence and courage. There was so much love in that room!

Susie and Cia had brought wonderful munchies we all fell upon, and then as people left they were encouraged to take some of her Books on Tape and other odds and ends. She wanted her things to go to folks who could use them, and I could feel her smiling as people found things they liked. And it goes on and on and on, this sweet sweet song...

I will always remember our first two meetings. One in Sufi Dancing in Berkeley 1979. Our eyes met. Time stood still. Those big and deep eyes - we agreed that we'd known before. Then again a few months later at bagcheck before discourse, those same eyes, that same recognition,

Over the next 30+ years, so many experiences together. Visits to each other on our Pacific Northwest Islands. Camping...Anubodhi, Pranesh and me. What a blast! She and I giggling all night long in our tents....Sharing of many alternative healing therapies in our attempts to heal our bodies. Then there were the nights during the 90's when we listened to Coast to Coast with  Art Bell...and hung out on the phone discussing the subjects at hand way into the small hours. I have not known anyone I felt I could call at any time day or night. With Anubodhi I could.

We cruised for years with what for me was a remarkable, solid, exciting, warm and comforting friendship.The last few years we talked less, she suffered more....with the decline of her sight and her general health. 

I consulted with a shaman to find out what she is up to. What I heard was amazing. He knew nothing about her.  He journeyed with her and she led him through rocky terrain, into an underground cathedral, then to a thousand petaled lotus. She took off her Indian blanket revealing a white robe. She then cleansed herself under a waterfall, and  she smiled as  rainbows covered her face and she said "my life has been a study in grays, right down to the cat..."
Then,  basking in the wondrous array of colors of her new world, she took the robe off and swam naked in the lake.....
 

This is Osho's answer to a question from a sannyasin:

Beloved Osho,

In 1980 you gave me sannyas. I was not even looking for a master. Since then I have experienced the joy and fun of being one of your disciples, but now I start feeling the pain: you are so vast--where is the way? Is there a way? Just to be true is so difficult. And is that all?

You have asked me three questions in one. First, you found me although you were not looking for a master. Let me make it clear to you that I was looking for a disciple, and that is far more important. Your looking for a master is not so important because you are asleep and dreaming. So whenever I see some sleepwalker passing by, and see some possibility that he can be awakened, I just turn his way--and he is a sleepwalker so there is no problem. It does not matter where he is going. I give him sannyas, he takes sannyas--because in sleep it does not matter.

I create a beautiful dream for him. I am not a hard taskmaster. First I create a beautiful dream, and then slowly slowly I take you out of it. Now you are out of the dream, so the second problem arises--where is the path?

In fact, it is my doing. While you were asleep I was talking about the path..."the path...the mystic path: to wake you up. Now you are awake so you are asking, "Where is the path?"

There is no path. It was just a device to wake you up.

You are not to go anywhere. You are exactly at the place where you have to reach. You are exactly that which you have to become. There is no path, there is no goal. Your isness is your realization.

And thirdly: waking up, you see me vast like an ocean. While you were asleep, you were not aware of where I was leading you. Now you are fully awake, and you see the vast ocean. It is not me. It is the reality--and it is your reality.

And the ocean that you are seeing outside you will remain outside till your dewdrop disappears into it. And the dewdrop is slipping from the lotus leaf. Any moment it will be part of the ocean and you will know that no man is an island; we all belong to reality, one consciousness, one continent. It is only in our sleep that we are separate. The moment we are awake we are one.

There will be a little fear. It is said that even before a river falls into the ocean, it trembles with fear. It looks back at the whole journey, the peaks of the mountains, the long winding path through the forests, through the people, and it sees in front of it such a vast ocean that entering into it is disappearing forever. But there is no other way. The river cannot go back. Neither can you go back.

Going back is impossible in existence; you can only go forward. The river has to take the risk and go into the ocean. And only when it enters the ocean will the fear disappear because only then will the river know it is not disappearing into the ocean, rather it is becoming the ocean. It is a disappearance from one side and it is a tremendous resurrection from the other side.

So don't be worried. Things are happening perfectly right for you. You had not come in search of a master, but what to do? A master was in search of you. And now there is no going back. Even if you try to close your eyes, that sleep in which you were living cannot be recalled.

And the vastness is not something to be afraid of. It is very friendly, it is very loving. Disappearing into it is almost like finding the womb and its warmth and nourishment again. 

Osho, Beyond Enlightenment, Chapter 16.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jvZruGbQpc


This music, which Anubodhi turned me on to, was perhaps her very most favorite music for dancing...i miss you my beloved friend♥

From Cousin Mel Smith, Pasadena, CA

Emmy Lou was my older cousin, by nearly 4 years. I didn't have a chance to grow up with Emmy Lou and her brother Preston because their family lived in Kansas until the end of WWII. By then Emmy Lou was about age 20, in college and her spare time always seemed to naturally be spent with her friends. I only met her a few times when our families got together before she "took off" and I began college in Colorado. We did, however, somehow manage to exchange what we were doing periodically.  

In the early 1960's we were both living in the San Diego area and at least managed one memorable afternoon and dinner to swap stories. Her interests were unusual and at that time she was headed off to teach at a remote Indian reservation near the border of Arizona and New Mexico. I always thought she was attractive and interesting but seemed to have no interest in a traditional family life. She was very smart and probably scared the tar out of any prospects with her extensive and often unusual ambitions.  

Some 10 years or so ago my wife and I spent an afternoon at her Sebastopol apartment. By then she had been to India and was dedicated to her meditation teacher, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. We didn't comprehend her new emotional life, but then she had traveled all over, not only to visit but learn in great depth about the lives, customs and religions of many different cultures. In the family we traditionally referred to her as "the elusive Emmy Lou"!  

No matter, I always liked Emmy Lou and enjoyed listening to stories of her travels and "different" experiences without a commitment on my part to agree or criticize, although as has been said, some of her ambitions and experiences were pretty weird.  

I was so grateful to hear that her death was nearly instantaneous and that medics were available to handle the physical closure processes. A final closure organized by her close friends is very much appreciated.  

I'll miss Emmy Lou and am glad to be left with happy memories of a special person.  

Mollie Eschen shares:

Emmy Lou--her name at the time--always evoked laughter and mischief.
When we first met at the age of eleven at an Episcopalian Sunday School picnic we clicked immediately as we were leaping in gunny sack races. She lived in Pasadena and I in Altadena and we did not see one another again until we lined up for the bus to Girl Scout camp. We were delighted to happen to be placed in the same tent. We brought out the mischievousness in one another, plotting naughty things to do, i.e. get up in the middle of the night--harmless but we thought it naughty. Yet, after camp follow-up did not happen.

In eighth grade our paths crossed again--third time--when we joined Miss Gollatz' ballroom dancing class in the Huntington Hotel in Pasadena. The boys frequently ducked out so we had plenty of time to hold up the walls together. Marvelous way for two wallflowers to cement their relationship. By this time she had transferred from Arroyo Seco Grammar School to Westridge School for Girls while I was in Junior High school in Altadena. We both anticipated the fun we would have when I told her that I would be attending Westridge with her the following fall. By fall, in the midst of World War II she was not at Westridge and worse yet, no one knew anything about her whereabouts. After digging around we learned that the Spalding entourage had moved to Missouri where war plane building business had summoned her father, Bud (Preston) Spalding. But still no contact with my elusive best friend. We learned she did not think anyone would care.

Finally in 1944 when I entered Cal-Berkeley and the Alpha Phi sorority who should greet me there but Emmy Lou. She had begun college in summer in the wartime mode of scheduling. We were serious students but with plenty of time to play our usual tricks. Thus we spent many Saturday nights being campussed and making the time pass by eating the delicious contents of our Christmas stockings which we had saved for such supreme moments. All this despite the fact that she was sometimes taken for Ingrid Bergman.

Good friends from college visited us in Pasadena both in summer for the beaches and in winter for the games--basketball, football, etc. Among others we also visited Carla Bradbury in Carpenteria for the Santa Barbara Fiesta. Wherever Emily was laughter accompanied her. Attending the Turnabout theatre, a most clever series of skits, was a prime activity. Under the influence of the Turnabout we composed a funny rhyming skit concerning camping to entertain rushees and to lure them into joining Alpha Phi.

Later while working in San Francisco we spent numerous lunch hours in stores trying on becoming and hideous hats and laughing uproariously. We were earning our living secretarying at different advertising ad agencies.

Life raced on. I married and presented three children. She became fast friends with all of them as well as with my husband, Jim, who had been a big Emmy Lou fan since college. Kids, cats, dogs, land rats, she took care of us all. She spent much time traveling and working, and during one of her home periods while living at our house my husband Jim fell victim to an axe gone awry so I had to take him to the emergency room at midnight. She was home to keep the boat afloat. When the Bhagwan experience collapsed she lived in our spare bedroom and then was shortly off to pitch a tent in the backyard of a Mill Valley friend. More laughs.

She was the embodiment of the adage, "Stick to your knitting," as she knit what was probably scores of dresses. When she tired of a certain brilliant green one I wore it proudly for several more years.

Even though our lives verged in disparate spheres we remained good friends.

I shall miss our telephone calls which always started out with "Hello, dollink" and ended in peals of laughter, a carryover from our college days. Blessings on you, dollink.

Reply To: mollieeschen@gmail.com.

A member of our Smith family, Emmy Lou Spalding, as she was known to all of us, passed away on Christmas Day, 2012. Those of our generation, her cousins, knew her, though for my immediate family of Smiths, our contacts were limited.

My father, Dan C.A. Smith, had two older siblings: William (Bill) and Mabel. Mabel was married to Bud Spalding, lived in Pasadena, fairly near to Mel, Dan & Jim Smith (Bill's sons) when they were growing up. About the only time our family would see the Spaldings was when they came out to Redlands for the holidays, most prominently remembered as Thanksgiving. Emmy Lou's one brother, Preston, (Pres, or now he goes by Bud), lived in Pasadena with his wife Pat and three children until the early 70's, then moved to Newark in the San Francisco Bay Area, where he ultimately became Fire Chief. Pres just celebrated his 80th birthday December 22, 2012, thus is six years younger than Emmy Lou.

My sister Susan McConneloug is the one person in the Smith Family who has kept in touch with Emmy Lou. When she used to live in Mill Valley, Susie would see her on occasion. For the last 1 1/2 years Emmy Lou, living in a retirement home in Sebastopol, declined Susie's offers to stop by. On this past Christmas Day Susie had called Emmy Lou to ask if she could stop in for a visit, en route to her daughter's family for Christmas Dinner. For once, Emmy Lou invited Susie to come.  She no sooner got there, about 4 p.m., that Emmy Lou started having chest pains, the sign of a heart attack. She went to her bedroom to change clothes, in anticipation of going to the ER. She collapsed. At some point Susie called 911, paramedics arrived and took Emmy Lou to the hospital.  Susie went on to her family's and didn't know for certain, until later that evening, that Emmy Lou had passed.

Susie has collaborated with Anila Manning to plan the Memorial Service for Friday, January 4th at 11:30 a.m. at the Luther Burbank Heights & Orchards Retirement Home in Sebastopol.