IN MEMORIAM Sandra Stahman: A Conversation
From Rose Lee Hayden--Rome, Italy
Words fail, and after several attempts to write a tribute to my dearest and beloved Sandra Stahman, I had to face the fact that I sounded ever so trite, and frankly was not really honoring and celebrating YOU, dear Sandra. I still cannot seem to get it right, so let me just skip the formalities and speak directly to you, soul to soul.
Sandy, it so happens that I am now in Brazil where people truly believe in any and all religions and pray to alI the gods, white, African, whatever. They are not theological, they are seekers. Sorry you cannot be with me except in my heart. You would love these guys, another version of Latin AmericanMexican culture that teaches us gringos how to share the gifts of life and love no matter how poor or rich, so-called educated or not. We are “family” – sometimes more so despite language and cultural differences. You both created and were a part of this family who shared you and loved you and Bob - and of course that little doggie who knew that if she barked enough, Alberto would come and be there for her.
I hope you come back to me in my dreams with that way of slowing down and speaking in a different tone of voice when discussing issues of race and class and education and politics…whatever.
Your GPS never wavered when it came to your beliefs, acts, and commitment to social justice despite our prejudices. You helped me rise above all that with wonderful examples from your life and lots of Manhattans or whatever the ice cubes and blender in Greenport was serving up (along with lobsters and tons of food at a table crowded with your other ¨family¨ – all of us who considered Greenport our home thanks to you. There was always room for one more at the table Bob made, always room under the table for yet another poodle or even a place for Figaro, a rather nasty-mouthed little parrot who told you off for which I apologize.
I can still hear you yelling at Bob when we were dog-sledding in Finland. Unbeknownst to you in the front of the sled, Robert had fallen off the back of the sled into a deep snowdrift as your dogs raced on now that there was no one at the helm. In a tone of voice I really miss, here is the dialogue as your sled sped ahead of mine:
“Robert…ROOOBERT…answer me. ROBERT! THIS IS NOT FUNNY.” I tried to signal you and yelled – “Sandy, … NO Robert!” Turns out he was in a really deep drift of snow, but when the owner of the dogs went back to find him, our Roberto was happily waving a little flashlight and was calm as could be in below-zero, always dark in winter Finland. All ended well, but believe me, that was a jewel in your crown. I loved it and still laugh. Robert must miss this verbal challenge…I know I do.
And when life was awful, you were always there for me with the best advice because it was always spot on and not judgmental. I could accept it because it was intelligent and always from the heart.
And what courage you displayed during the brain surgeries and recovery, facing the end without complaint, and beating it back with a miraculous recovery that was a testimony to your strength and character. I hope I have even one percent of this courage when I have to leave the planet as we all eventually do. In the words of none other than Evil Knievel who was asked why he kept risking his life and breaking bones over and over again: “Ain’t none of us getting out of this alive.” Never thought of him as an existential philosopher, but so true.
So, my dear Sandra, I will keep talking to you, ok? Because, my dearest, I cannot and will never let you go. It hurts too much.
Somewhere you are out there, I know it, and this helps all of us to go forward without you in our lives. Some people are simply bigger than life. As you know, nature abhors a vacuum, so you live on in our hearts and minds.
And dear Sandra, here’s one last request before I speak with you again. Wherever you are in whatever dimension out there, given ‘em a piece of your mind! It will do the universe good.
Know I cherish every minute I was privileged to spend with you. I am so grateful you were in my life, accepted me and others as ¨family¨. All of us left behind now know just how much you gave to us and how much we will always miss you. But we will continue to converse with you, each in our own way… in our own hearts… each with gratitude and love.