IN MEMORIAM, Carol Rigdon
Timber Valley SKP’s flag flew at half-mast for Carol Rigdon who passed away February 25, 2021. She is survived by her husband, LeeRoy, 6 children, 20 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. Carol and LeeRoy became residents on August 17, 2018 and moved into Timber Valley December 7, 2018.
Our Timber Valley Community sends sincere condolences to LeeRoy and the entire Family.
by Helaine Hepworth
I stepped out of the cancer closet hoping if I exposed it to the daylight it wouldn’t be so frightening. And the results were surprising. I got so many pledges of support and help it was overwhelming .
“Anything you want, Anything you need. We are right here” In the outside world those words are often said and often without meaning. Just a social protocol but not necessarily followed through. But this is Timber Valley and I do believe them. I have complete faith that if I or any of our members asked for help it would be given. Does that mean I will ask for help. I don’t know. I am stubborn, determined to do for myself and find asking for help hard to do. But you have helped already. From every message I received I took a chunk of courage and strength and added it to my dwindling supply. Learning there are more cancer patients in the park eliminates that lonely feeling. Maybe when the world is not spinning so fast we can form a cancer support group. For now, I know I am in the best place for me, and I love you all.
URGENT REMINDER TO TIMBER VALLEY MEMBERS
March 5, 2021
From Park Manager and PCM Committee
In looking to the future utility needs of the park, we are undergoing a survey of our current electrical status. On Thursday, February 18, 2021, volunteers conducted an inspection of all electrical pedestals within the park, checking voltage on each outlet and noting any maintenance issues. The second phase of this project will involve taking the pedestals apart, tightening all connections and replacing any broken or faulty parts.
We were very distressed to find so many lots to be “out of compliance” with park standards. The Rules and Regulations established by the Board of Directors are given out to all members upon acceptance of their lot. Those Rules and Regulations clearly state that changes of any kind to the electrical pedestal is not permitted. This includes; “hard wiring” circuits to supply power to the sheds, and installing circuit breaker boxes to the shed.
Any member found to be “out of compliance” with park standards will be put on notice. It will be up to the Board of Directors and Park Manager to decide how to proceed; however, the “spider webs” are a fire hazard and must be removed.
While we all want to be able to run all the electrical appliances we have in our rigs, making the above mentioned changes yourself or having a well-meaning friend or even a licensed electrician do it is not acceptable. Our park is old and the electrical system was never designed to accommodate today’s modern rigs. Our hope is to update the system so all members will have adequate power.
Summer will be upon us very soon and we will again face the potential for power outages due to the use of air conditioners, so please remember to use only one air conditioner at a time.
The problem:
Current Rules and Regulations:
“Any modification by a Member or their agent of an electric service pedestal, it’s circuit breakers, and connection on any leasehold lots are prohibited. No additional outlets or circuit breakers shall be installed in the pedestal.”
IN MEMORIAM, James Mikulik, Lot 79
Phyllis and James Mikulik moved into Timber Valley RV Park June 25, 2013. James passed away March 1, 2021. He is survived by his wife, Phyllis who lives in Shiner, Texas. Timber Valley extends our condolences to Phyllis and the family.
by Fred Prout
Warning: Some of these words might be considered political. They are not. But if you are one of those who are easily offended by everything, stop now. Continue at your own risk. No offense intended.
Rita and I met when we were both working in community theater. The play was called “Not Now Darling“ and it was a British farce. We enjoyed the show because we both appreciated comedy. She enjoyed satire while I was more Marx Brothers. Different tastes, but we managed to enjoy things in spite of that.
Once we took my daughter Janettte to see a Broadway show in New York. While we were waiting in the lobby we got bored, so Janettte and I did the entire Abbott and Costello “Who’s on first“ routine. We got a standing ovation. Well…It Was the lobby — No seats. Thankfully Rita was always a good sport and we all survived.
During our years together, Rita and I enjoyed many TV comedies. Some more than others. One of my favorites, not hers, was The Dukes of Hazzard. A silly show about a couple of good old boys driving around in an orange hot rod called The General Lee with a confederate flag painted on the roof. A silly show about a couple of country bumpkins with no agenda other than having fun with their family and goofing around.
I guess the early eighties were a less divided time in our country. Nobody got offended by the goofy characters, the General Lee, or the flag on the roof. It was a TV show pure and simple. And it made us laugh.
So, as a way of returning to a less contentious time, I just ordered all eight seasons from Netflix. Some time in the near future, I plan on binge watching Bo and Luke driving the General Lee as I am eating my waffles drenched in Aunt Jemima syrup, with a side of Uncle Ben’s. Followed by a Mountain Dew and a Moon Pie.
All the while, I will be thumbing my nose at everybody who gets offended by everything.
And if you don’t like it:
Look away, look away, look away….
No offense.
Really.
Fred and Rita
Timber Valley is saddened by the news that Gene Fisher died last night, March 2nd, at a hospice care facility in Roseburg. Condolences to Jane and the family. A more complete obituary for this very active member of Timber Valley will follow in the days ahead.
by Ruby Bonham
The frail wrinkled body slumps forward against the restraint tied to the wheelchair. Her eyes are vacant, empty of response to the activity taking place around her. She is my mom.
I stand there watching unnoticed. The vibrant woman of a few years ago has been lost to the ravages of Alzheimer’s. As my aunts talk about her, a silent tear starts in her eye and slips gently down her weathered cheek. They all seem to think that because her deteriorating brain has eroded her memory and robbed her of verbal skills, that she can no longer hear either. It isn’t so. I who have watched her and loved her know beyond doubt that deep inside that worn out body lies a soul still tied to this world.
Finally everyone leaves and I am alone with Mom. Now our journey will begin as it does each time we are alone together. Putting my arms around her, I start the sensory input that will take an hour or more. Talking softly, I stroke the taut bony shoulders and head outside.
It is a warm sunny day with just enough breeze to take the edge off the heat. Away from the crowd I start the pattern I have developed as I have learned more about her world. I walk behind the wheelchair but I lean over so that my arms are around her and our cheeks touch. I talk softly and simply about the warmth of the sun, the breeze, about how I love her and am glad to be with her. Ever so slowly she starts to relax and her eyes lose some of their vagueness. I move in front of her and place both hands on the side of her face, touching her gently until ever so slowly we have eye contact. The agitation has diminished and she responds to the sensory input. We move onward but stop often to touch and love. I ask her if the sun feels good and she says “yes”: a breakthrough! After a while we go back inside and unintentionally my speech has become that of someone talking to a small child. I become aware of what I have done as I see the tears start to fall once again and I am ashamed that I have hurt her feelings. It is difficult to keep speech simple and uncomplicated without becoming condescending.
Mae and Ruby
Because of my slip I have to go back and reestablish trust. About two hours have passed and we are both relaxed. I reach out and hold her face and our eyes connect. I say “I love you.” Slowly her hands come up and she touches my face and says, “I love you too.” I am shocked and for a moment, I am speechless. Still we have eye contact and deep within I see a tiny twinkle. I think she is proud of me that I have finally caught on. I smile at her in wonder and love passes between us, unhampered by words. She is more relaxed than I have seen her in months. Still she holds my gaze and I feel that our look says more than words can ever express. I am overwhelmed that she has chosen to let me into her world so completely. I feel life and humor and responses that are supposedly non-functioning at this stage of her disease. For moments we share and then as she tires, her focus wanders. I return her to her room for a nap.
I have watched her experience life from an entirely different plane and I have been grateful for the lessons that have culminated in today’s breakthrough. Society is very rigid in its acceptance of people, choosing only to approve of those who meet the requirements of standard mental and verbal skills. Because she no longer communicates in the accepted manner, she is no longer a part of their world. Not once has anyone wondered if perhaps they could communicate in hers.
Ruby Bonham
About 1986
Originally written for the Houston Alzheimer’s Foundation
It is rather a strange name and when Timber Valley neighbors had trouble pronouncing Frank and Marion’s last name, one of them would say, “It’s easy! Just think of cute toes.” And the other would add, “Oh, cute toes!”
Frank and Marion Occhuito left Timber Valley RV Park in 2014 and left behind many memories. Memories include Frank sprawled out on the clubhouse kitchen floor working under the stove fixing something. He was an avid fisherman and tied his own flies. He also enjoyed shooting pool. Frank was always ready to help anyone who needed it.
Marion enjoyed craft work and made beautiful greeting cards. She cut tiny little pictures out with huge scissors while the rest of us used manicure scissors. Both Frank and Marion were devoted to their church often going to daily mass.
Frank was born Aug. 5, 1924 and passed Feb 22, 2021. He served in the Navy in WW 11 and Korea as a radio operator on the USS Lowry. Dec 19, 1995 he married Marion and they were married for 20 years.
They left Timber Valley to live with children in 2014 and Marion died within the first year. Frank lived another 6 years, passing on just a couple of days before the anniversary of Marion’s death.
{If you have memories to add, please use the Comments}
by Helaine Hepworth
When I thought cancer was approaching my life I ran and hid.
I lied, made excuses, withdrew, and denied it.
Turns out, cancer is a part of life. We are all touched by it somehow. We lose friends, family and co workers. I have always believed that we are taught lessons in our life experiences. Then we are obligated to pass on what we learned.
Many years ago both Wally and I had coworkers with late stage cancers.We visited, shared and somehow dealt with them on a totally honest level. Both people expressed thankfulness at our acceptance and honesty.
When cancer came closer to us with family members we used those lessons well, it helped us, it helped them. Toughest of all was our oldest child. A mere 25 years we had him. Yet we were able to talk honestly, and when he decided to refuse treatment and travel for his last few months. We gave him some money, a suitcase and our blessings. When my aunt made the decision to stop treatment it was easier to accept it, help care for her, and bake her muffins.
So why, when it was me did I hesitate. Hesitate? No, more like I froze. It did take me a long time to process it all. I kept it a secret for a long time. Trusting only a few people in my life. Slowly I crawled out of the Cancer Closet.
I am no longer hiding.
Saying over and over “It is what it is” “It is my turn.”
“Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.”
So here I am, hoping that I can give knowledge, hope, humor, care, and love to others out there that may be hiding. Expect a story now and then with the good, the bad, and the ugly but always with the truth.
First of all thank you for allowing me to share our stories.And for the feedback and encouragement.
Part I told of our first ski trip.Thankfully we had many others.All of our ski adventures were great fun. No more near crashes,no frostbite and only one minor injury. Me. Each one was unique in location, people we met and watching Rita working hard to become a good skier. We were not yet at the point in our life when she got her glasses, so I learned how to alternate between skiing and clearing a path for her.( Mostly successful on both counts.)
One trip stands out.I’d like to share it with you.
Rita was living in “ suburbia “ and going through a nasty divorce. In suburbia at the time, if one neighbor got a new car, quick, buy GM stock because they all wanted one. The same copy cat syndrome applied to divorce.”Hey honey, the Smiths are getting a divorce, Wadda you think, You want one too “?
Her neighbor Irene,( not her real name but close) was in that situation and asked if she could join us the following weekend. She needed a getaway.What follows will make no sense if I don’t describe Irene.
In those days we would say she had it all together.She was equal parts CEO -engineer- super mom- fashionista- and Wonder Woman.That was Irene.Whatever it is,I can do it.
I wasn’t happy with the arrangement ,but Rita could empathize and was always willing to help.So she said she would be responsible for her friend so how could I say no.
Saturday six am,Irene burst out of the door ready to go skiing.It must have taken as long to do her make up as the entire cast of Cats.She was ready for dinner with the Queen.Her new ski outfit must have cost more than my entire wardrobe.Including brand new ski boots.I did manage to convince her to leave the jewelry at home.
Off to Stowe, Vermont.
Visualize,if you will, a mound of snow eight feet high and fifty feet in diameter at the base.This was not even a baby hill,it was an in utero hill. I took Rita at her word, and watched as she showed Irene how to walk sideways up this eight foot hill.
After an agonizingly long time they reached the top.Somehow the vibes went out, and I was joined by a group of people who sensed that something historic was about to happen.
Rita now demonstrates how to position your skis to come down the hill slowly, and proceeds to do so.Irene watches. Irene doesn’t move.Rita sidesteps back up and demonstrates again.Irene doesn’t move.Rita goes back up and tells Irene they will go down together. Irene starts bawling.(Remember the make up?) Finally Rita is able to walk her all the way down the eight foot hill.To the applause of everyone watching.
When they got to the bottom,Irene removed her skis and told us we could pick her up at the lodge and marched off to be a ski bunny.
The drive home was very quiet.Except for my occasional discreet giggles.
I don’t believe I have ever been prouder of the way Rita handled a very difficult situation.
That fall we went back to Stowe to have a picnic with Maria and the rest of the Von Trapp family.But that’s another story.
—
Fred and Rita
IFPL III
