It has been three months now since we lost Devon. I have been unable to put into words anything remotely close to how I've been feeling. This weekend, however, inspired by the Red Devon Daffodils that Julie planted in her honor and are now sprouting up on my balcony, I was inspired to try to describe (with some poetic license and a few miss-sequencing of events!) my experience during Devon's last days. I've posted this on my blog and hope it speaks somewhat for you, too. Ironically, since Devon set this blog up for me and showed me how to use it, I feel guilty for not using it lately. The muse just hasn't been speaking to me. At least I've found the words to give her a little to smile about here at the end of this most horrible of years.
http://tambourineman7.blogspot.com/
We all are seeking our own way to get our arms around the meaning of Devon's loss and move on with it, ever so slowly and carefully. one of my ways is to write about it. My next effort will be to move into a "garden," again an inspiration given to me by Julie. Two days after Devon died, Julie, Jen, Cory, Asako and I went to Descanso Gardens in Pasadena. We found freh air, sunlight, ponds, fish, many beautiful flowers and plants. Jen took a picture of a poem engraved on a bronze plaque. It has been lingering in my mind ever since Julie emailed it to me. I think I can form some feelings around this.
Meanwhile, Asako and I wish you all a Good New Year. We keep talking of all the love and support you've shown for Devon this past year and a half and are permanently grateful. Can't say it enough! Asako will be working in Tokyo January 13 through the 27th. I'll be busy with classes, keeping the house dusted, playing at golf, and growing stronger in mind, body and spirit...I hope!
Love to All,
Lou
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Anathea Gordon
Ruthie, thank you so much for the opportunity to express our thoughts and feelings about Devon. If all the people who knew and loved Devon took the opportunity to share their feelings and memories at “the celebration of her life”, we would be there for hours-laughing and crying. I have been blessed to have known Devon since she was a baby, really. Our mothers met when her older brother Cory and I were newborn infants. My earliest memory of Devon was on a trip my family took to visit her family in Clovis. We were hanging out in their apartment, having dinner one night. She must have been pretty young, because, during the dinner preparation she asked “what’s for ‘zert’ mommy”. Chantal and I still talk about how cute that was.
The next time I remember seeing her was on a trip I took up to Santa Barbara for a visit one weekend, it was before her trip to Europe, we had a fun time hanging out at one of the local bars. It was amazing b/c we had such a great time that weekend. It was as if it had only been a week or so (versus the years it had actually been).
I can remember when I got the news about the cancer diagnosis. I was in total shock! I took a trip to Long Beach w/my mom to visit her in the hospital. I think it was the 1st day after her 1st surgery. I had spoken to her on the phone and had asked her if she liked sushi (which she had). When my mom and I entered the hospital room (she had been out of the room at the time for PT or OT) neither one of us knew what to expect. About 10 min later, she walked in (with minimal assistance) w/her walker w/a HUGE smile on her face. We asked how she was feeling, she said “pretty well”. We dined on sushi and Snapple, and painted her finger nails. It was a good visit.
I came out several times to visit her at her Long Beach place (the apt they moved into after the fire). On one occasion, (after the 2nd surgery), we walked across the street to the restaurant for lunch. I remember asking her how she was feeling-physically. She said “pretty well, my balance is off a bit, but ok”. She always had a smile on her face. In typical-strong willed Devon style-she refused any help offered, and we walked across the street for lunch. I think that was the same visit we hung out and watched “American Idol” on the DVR. She was SO excited about the show, she LOVED it. ; ) (which was fun for me to see b/c I wasn’t all that into it). No matter what she was going through (between the cancer and the apartment issues) her spirits were ALWAYS high. Several times I was able to help her out (at least she was nice enough to say I helped J) with her diagnosis. She would ask me about medication regimens or experimental treatment the doctors were looking at and the results of her frequent lab work. Only once did I ever see the effects of the cancer hit her emotionally. On one of my visits in Long Beach (as she worked on her laptop-getting herself back to work so that she could maintain a level of normalcy and her medical insurance), she spoke with her neurologist, who gave her the results of the most recent MRI. Devon cried for just a bit, and then shook it off.
The last time I saw Devon was about 1.5 months or so ago. I went out to Long Beach for one of our lunches, we went to some “Teriaki place” she said was good. The thing that NEVER ceased to amaze me was how GREAT her memory was-even after several brain surgeries. She directed us directly to the restaurant as I drove and got us back, I (half) joked that her memory was better than mine was, and I didn’t even have an excuse. We had a good time talking about our families and the stresses of life. I still can’t believe she’s gone, I’m going to miss her regular blogs and our lunches, her spirit and her smile and her enthusiasm for life and American Idol.
God Bless.
The next time I remember seeing her was on a trip I took up to Santa Barbara for a visit one weekend, it was before her trip to Europe, we had a fun time hanging out at one of the local bars. It was amazing b/c we had such a great time that weekend. It was as if it had only been a week or so (versus the years it had actually been).
I can remember when I got the news about the cancer diagnosis. I was in total shock! I took a trip to Long Beach w/my mom to visit her in the hospital. I think it was the 1st day after her 1st surgery. I had spoken to her on the phone and had asked her if she liked sushi (which she had). When my mom and I entered the hospital room (she had been out of the room at the time for PT or OT) neither one of us knew what to expect. About 10 min later, she walked in (with minimal assistance) w/her walker w/a HUGE smile on her face. We asked how she was feeling, she said “pretty well”. We dined on sushi and Snapple, and painted her finger nails. It was a good visit.
I came out several times to visit her at her Long Beach place (the apt they moved into after the fire). On one occasion, (after the 2nd surgery), we walked across the street to the restaurant for lunch. I remember asking her how she was feeling-physically. She said “pretty well, my balance is off a bit, but ok”. She always had a smile on her face. In typical-strong willed Devon style-she refused any help offered, and we walked across the street for lunch. I think that was the same visit we hung out and watched “American Idol” on the DVR. She was SO excited about the show, she LOVED it. ; ) (which was fun for me to see b/c I wasn’t all that into it). No matter what she was going through (between the cancer and the apartment issues) her spirits were ALWAYS high. Several times I was able to help her out (at least she was nice enough to say I helped J) with her diagnosis. She would ask me about medication regimens or experimental treatment the doctors were looking at and the results of her frequent lab work. Only once did I ever see the effects of the cancer hit her emotionally. On one of my visits in Long Beach (as she worked on her laptop-getting herself back to work so that she could maintain a level of normalcy and her medical insurance), she spoke with her neurologist, who gave her the results of the most recent MRI. Devon cried for just a bit, and then shook it off.
The last time I saw Devon was about 1.5 months or so ago. I went out to Long Beach for one of our lunches, we went to some “Teriaki place” she said was good. The thing that NEVER ceased to amaze me was how GREAT her memory was-even after several brain surgeries. She directed us directly to the restaurant as I drove and got us back, I (half) joked that her memory was better than mine was, and I didn’t even have an excuse. We had a good time talking about our families and the stresses of life. I still can’t believe she’s gone, I’m going to miss her regular blogs and our lunches, her spirit and her smile and her enthusiasm for life and American Idol.
God Bless.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Devon: The Summit of Life
It is neither the highest nor the lowest of our successes or failures that measure our life, but rather our staying the course in loving, in caring, in sharing and in giving that defines our place in the human drama. Devon did just that. She was content in finding peace within herself, knowing The Maker was well pleased.
Throughout her life, she always sought and seized opportunities to better herself and those around her. Driven by a powerful, positive spirit, deep-seeded within her, she was able to both understand and blend logic and realization in a visionary way so few can do. The enormity of her short life, the impact she had on others, her endless well of spiritual energy—all were evangelistic-like, revealing a complete commitment to both create or take on tasks, whether personal or in her chosen field of education. Devon had a gifted-way of seeing end results, the possibilities down the road, undaunted by the obstacles in her path or other events that might undermine an outcome.
Devon was The Summit of Life. She lived as The Power Beyond asks us to live—loving each other, caring, sharing and giving. She stayed the course to her journey’s end. On bended knee, bidding Devon farewell, I pray that her spirit will remain with us, now and forever.
Jeremiah Anthony Markert
Uncle
Throughout her life, she always sought and seized opportunities to better herself and those around her. Driven by a powerful, positive spirit, deep-seeded within her, she was able to both understand and blend logic and realization in a visionary way so few can do. The enormity of her short life, the impact she had on others, her endless well of spiritual energy—all were evangelistic-like, revealing a complete commitment to both create or take on tasks, whether personal or in her chosen field of education. Devon had a gifted-way of seeing end results, the possibilities down the road, undaunted by the obstacles in her path or other events that might undermine an outcome.
Devon was The Summit of Life. She lived as The Power Beyond asks us to live—loving each other, caring, sharing and giving. She stayed the course to her journey’s end. On bended knee, bidding Devon farewell, I pray that her spirit will remain with us, now and forever.
Jeremiah Anthony Markert
Uncle
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Michelle Syverson
What a lovely young woman.
I came across Devon's obituary last weekend, was touched by such a young woman's tragic death and decided I would check out her blog...mostly out of curiosity. Being a fellow blogger I was interested in seeing Devon's and little did I know it would be like opening a good book.
What an incredible young woman who touched more lives than we can probably count. Through her love and passion for her friends and work she has left a behind a legacy.
As I read the numerous entries I found myself laughing and crying. I also was compelled to check her blog each day to see and view more of her incredibly short but well live life. It strikes me as odd that now I feel like she is a friend, probably because she could have easily been a friend of mine.
I find it heartwarming and sad at the same time that it can take the death of someone close to us to put our lives in perspective and look closely at what we value. Often the death of someone allows us an opportunity to dig deep inside ourselves and find what it was we really loved and valued about that person. Hopefully some of us now will take the time to tell those in our lives who are living how we truly feel...instead of waiting until they are gone.
With all this said I just want to pass along my sincere condolences to all who new this young lady and to thank those who are keeping her blog alive as a tribute to her. She was blessed to have so many loving people in her life.
May God Bless You!
I came across Devon's obituary last weekend, was touched by such a young woman's tragic death and decided I would check out her blog...mostly out of curiosity. Being a fellow blogger I was interested in seeing Devon's and little did I know it would be like opening a good book.
What an incredible young woman who touched more lives than we can probably count. Through her love and passion for her friends and work she has left a behind a legacy.
As I read the numerous entries I found myself laughing and crying. I also was compelled to check her blog each day to see and view more of her incredibly short but well live life. It strikes me as odd that now I feel like she is a friend, probably because she could have easily been a friend of mine.
I find it heartwarming and sad at the same time that it can take the death of someone close to us to put our lives in perspective and look closely at what we value. Often the death of someone allows us an opportunity to dig deep inside ourselves and find what it was we really loved and valued about that person. Hopefully some of us now will take the time to tell those in our lives who are living how we truly feel...instead of waiting until they are gone.
With all this said I just want to pass along my sincere condolences to all who new this young lady and to thank those who are keeping her blog alive as a tribute to her. She was blessed to have so many loving people in her life.
May God Bless You!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Karla Frizler Octavio's Eulogy
I’ll Never Forget You, Devon
By Karla Frizler Octavio
I am one of Devon’s colleagues and good friends. We taught together at Torrance Adult School, and I have been the liaison between Devon’s family and friends and the school throughout her illness. Something I’ve heard many times from Devon’s loved ones is how much they appreciate the love and support of Devon’s co-workers and students. I would just like to say on behalf of everyone at Torrance Adult School and TIMAC, it has been our pleasure to do anything in our power to help Devon and her family through this difficult time. And that love and support doesn’t end here. We are always here for you, whatever you need.
I remember the first time I met Devon. We had both just started working at Torrance, and she subbed for my Instructional Assistant. With very little guidance, she stepped into the classroom and immediately began helping students. She was warm and intelligent and creative. The students (and I) responded to her charm immediately.
Over the years, Devon & I exchanged ideas on an almost daily basis. Even when she was unable to work, she would email me ideas for class activities, or suggest topics for our class blog. I used every single one. We had such grand plans for our students, everything from interactive whiteboards in the classroom, to a “quad” or central gathering place on campus where students could meet and practice their English outside of the classroom.
One idea we were very excited about was creating an orientation video for new students. We wanted to make sure every student felt welcomed, and got the information they needed about the ESL program and the school. When Devon returned to work in May, her main focus was the Orientation. She did a great job, and in fact it is now installed on computers throughout the ESL classrooms, computer labs and registration areas. I will work with our students to make sure the orientation is updated regularly, and of course, that it is dedicated to Devon.
One of my favorite things about the video is that Devon had her students do the translations into various languages. It was a wonderful way for the students to give back to the program, and it was a nice way to honor the students’ accomplishments with the English language.
Devon was an old soul in the body of a beautiful young woman, wise beyond her years--but there were times when she reminded me of her age. We used to watch American Idol and send text messages to each other throughout the show. One time, Hall & Oates were featured. The next day, Devon asked me, “Who were those guys?” I asked, “What year were you born?” She said “1980,” and I told her I was 13 that year, listening to my Hall & Oates albums. I made her a Hall & Oates CD, and she made me a CD of Daughtry. It was a wonderful exchange.
Though we began our relationship with me as her mentor, the tables soon turned. I realized early on that I had a lot to learn from this amazing young woman. Devon was not only my colleague, but my good friend as well. In fact, she became like a sister to me. We became especially close when she filled in for me during my maternity leave. She would make a personal visit to my home to ask me any questions she had, which was so thoughtful. When I returned to work, she had made a collage of family pictures for me to keep in my office, because she knew I would miss my baby.
I was able to really focus on and enjoy my daughter because I knew Devon was taking care of business. And I tried my best to return that favor over the last year and a half. I wanted to make sure Devon could focus on getting healthy and spending time with her family, not worrying about work.
Just before her first surgery, Devon asked me to come to the hospital and see her. Knowing her work ethic, I asked if there were anything she needed me to take care of at work. She told me to get out a pen and piece of paper. I covered both sides with feverish notes about projects I didn’t even realize she was involved in.
I also tried to help Devon outside of work. In early September, my husband and I were thrilled that Devon and Noureddin could use our timeshare in Newport Coast. It was an opportunity for them to have a vacation, to just be together … in the sun … with good friends. We’re so glad they had that special time.
The most important thing I learned from Devon is to look at opportunities, and not obstacles. To see possibilities, not potential problems. This is not my nature, but it was certainly Devon’s nature … to always see the positive and the good. I will do my best to live up to her example, and to pass along that positive spirit to my students and especially my daughter. I will never let them forget our precious Devon.
When Devon’s mom met my daughter for the first time, she said, “Mia is just like Devon!” My heart filled with pride. If Mia turns out to be half the woman Devon was, she will have an incredible life and make a tremendous impact on people, just like her “Auntie Devon.”
I feel so blessed, so grateful, to have spent some time with Devon just before she passed. It was a beautiful gift. We laughed a lot and talked about silly things like Jell-O, having no idea it would be our last conversation.
Devon, I love and miss you very much. I will never forget you …
By Karla Frizler Octavio
I am one of Devon’s colleagues and good friends. We taught together at Torrance Adult School, and I have been the liaison between Devon’s family and friends and the school throughout her illness. Something I’ve heard many times from Devon’s loved ones is how much they appreciate the love and support of Devon’s co-workers and students. I would just like to say on behalf of everyone at Torrance Adult School and TIMAC, it has been our pleasure to do anything in our power to help Devon and her family through this difficult time. And that love and support doesn’t end here. We are always here for you, whatever you need.
I remember the first time I met Devon. We had both just started working at Torrance, and she subbed for my Instructional Assistant. With very little guidance, she stepped into the classroom and immediately began helping students. She was warm and intelligent and creative. The students (and I) responded to her charm immediately.
Over the years, Devon & I exchanged ideas on an almost daily basis. Even when she was unable to work, she would email me ideas for class activities, or suggest topics for our class blog. I used every single one. We had such grand plans for our students, everything from interactive whiteboards in the classroom, to a “quad” or central gathering place on campus where students could meet and practice their English outside of the classroom.
One idea we were very excited about was creating an orientation video for new students. We wanted to make sure every student felt welcomed, and got the information they needed about the ESL program and the school. When Devon returned to work in May, her main focus was the Orientation. She did a great job, and in fact it is now installed on computers throughout the ESL classrooms, computer labs and registration areas. I will work with our students to make sure the orientation is updated regularly, and of course, that it is dedicated to Devon.
One of my favorite things about the video is that Devon had her students do the translations into various languages. It was a wonderful way for the students to give back to the program, and it was a nice way to honor the students’ accomplishments with the English language.
Devon was an old soul in the body of a beautiful young woman, wise beyond her years--but there were times when she reminded me of her age. We used to watch American Idol and send text messages to each other throughout the show. One time, Hall & Oates were featured. The next day, Devon asked me, “Who were those guys?” I asked, “What year were you born?” She said “1980,” and I told her I was 13 that year, listening to my Hall & Oates albums. I made her a Hall & Oates CD, and she made me a CD of Daughtry. It was a wonderful exchange.
Though we began our relationship with me as her mentor, the tables soon turned. I realized early on that I had a lot to learn from this amazing young woman. Devon was not only my colleague, but my good friend as well. In fact, she became like a sister to me. We became especially close when she filled in for me during my maternity leave. She would make a personal visit to my home to ask me any questions she had, which was so thoughtful. When I returned to work, she had made a collage of family pictures for me to keep in my office, because she knew I would miss my baby.
I was able to really focus on and enjoy my daughter because I knew Devon was taking care of business. And I tried my best to return that favor over the last year and a half. I wanted to make sure Devon could focus on getting healthy and spending time with her family, not worrying about work.
Just before her first surgery, Devon asked me to come to the hospital and see her. Knowing her work ethic, I asked if there were anything she needed me to take care of at work. She told me to get out a pen and piece of paper. I covered both sides with feverish notes about projects I didn’t even realize she was involved in.
I also tried to help Devon outside of work. In early September, my husband and I were thrilled that Devon and Noureddin could use our timeshare in Newport Coast. It was an opportunity for them to have a vacation, to just be together … in the sun … with good friends. We’re so glad they had that special time.
The most important thing I learned from Devon is to look at opportunities, and not obstacles. To see possibilities, not potential problems. This is not my nature, but it was certainly Devon’s nature … to always see the positive and the good. I will do my best to live up to her example, and to pass along that positive spirit to my students and especially my daughter. I will never let them forget our precious Devon.
When Devon’s mom met my daughter for the first time, she said, “Mia is just like Devon!” My heart filled with pride. If Mia turns out to be half the woman Devon was, she will have an incredible life and make a tremendous impact on people, just like her “Auntie Devon.”
I feel so blessed, so grateful, to have spent some time with Devon just before she passed. It was a beautiful gift. We laughed a lot and talked about silly things like Jell-O, having no idea it would be our last conversation.
Devon, I love and miss you very much. I will never forget you …
Portia La Ferla's Eulogy
My name is Portia and I was Devon’s supervisor I want to tell you about Devon at work, a place where she was loved, admired, appreciated, indulged, and adored.
When Devon first came to the Torrance Adult School, she was a volunteer in the GAC media center. One of our teachers, Michael told me about her and said she’d be a good candidate for our staff. She didn’t yet have a teaching credential, so we signed her up as an instructional assistant. Mike and Karla kept saying that we really, really needed to hire her and how much the students loved her. So we did, and she did such a great job with the students that, as soon as she was credentialed, we hired her as a teacher. And then we just kept giving her everything she asked for. We didn’t even know how much that was until she went on medical leave and it took 3 people to do her job…inadequately, I might add. We were floored when we figured out how much she was doing and what information she had kept in her head!
Well, you all knew Devon. Anything she did, she did fabulously and, it would seem to us mortals, without effort. She took over the media center class and owned it. The students praised her to me on many occasions and remained in touch and supported her throughout her illness. Our ESL program was on the verge of change beginning with our hiring Karla to help us with instructional technology integration. Devon was all over that! She began helping with tech support. She took over Karla’s job when she went out on maternity leave. Richard Rose, her principal, and I nominated her to the CDE’s Technology Integration Mentor Academy where she learned to train others how to use technology to enhance ESL learning. No big deal? It is to us old teachers who had TVs without remote controls as our starting point.
As the ESL Resource Teacher, it is my job to keep the program moving forward. With Karla and Devon, I could not stop it from doing so. Those two would sashay into my office or set up a meeting with Richard and me and what could we do? Whatever they wanted! Our sole purpose seemed to be getting them whatever they needed to do whatever they had cooked up and ambushed us with. We laughed about how we always felt like our pockets had got picked or like we had once again lost the 3 card Monte they had swindled us in to playing. But it was so fun and exciting! That was Devon! She took everyone along on her wild ride. She would come bounding into my office many afternoons and I would drop everything for Ms. Divine. I had to in order to make sure she didn’t get away with the whole store before she left. Richard and I really had a hard time keeping up.
Those were the most wonderful times of my 10 years in this position. I’ve always enjoyed my job, but I LOVED my job those days. We had everything and everyone we needed to make our already solid program an educational jewel. Devon was making a name for herself throughout the state and I had no illusions that she would be with us forever. I thought she would end up in Sacramento before long. But I never expected to lose her this way. We have lost 6 teachers in the last 10 years, all of these losses hurt and were hard to accept, but Devon was our favorite niece. She stepped into our little home away from home and made herself one of the family helping to arrange celebrations and getting greeting cards for all occasions. She was disarming, managing to get whatever she set her mind to with humor, kindness, and firmness and was never resented. And OK, Karla and I used her. If we needed to get something done that the teachers might object to, we got Devon to do it. And once she was diagnosed with cancer, she gave us full permission to use that to our advantage, too. The ESL teachers showed how much they loved and cared about Devon by contributing enough of their own sick leave hours to keep Devon in paid status with benefits for over a year!
Speaking of getting her way…Devon wanted and desperately needed to return to work. She missed the mental stimulation that work provided for her more than she missed a paycheck. But you can’t work in Torrance if you have medical restrictions. I had to tell her that and it broke my heart. I knew her doctors would never give her a return without restrictions. Well, I underestimated Devon. Saturday, May 17th I got an email from her that said, “I can’t wait to share this with you. See attachment.” It was a return to work form without restrictions! I told her I did not even want to hear how she got it, but she replied, “Persistence, that’s all. See you Monday!” That’s all?! That’s ALL! I still don’t know how she did it.
For me it was the chance I never thought I would get, to work with her again, to see her every day, to experience her brilliance at work, and to have a chance to try to make life just a little easier for her. I was able to savor the moments with her as if I had been given a “do over.” We don’t get a lot of “do overs” in life but Devon gave me one I had never dared hope for. Devon’s return to my daily life reminded met that we must savor each day. Every time Devon climbed “Mount Everest” (what she called the ramp to my door) to come see me, competing emotions of joy at having her with us and regret at knowing our time together would soon end overwhelmed me. One of our coworkers who knows something about loss wrote to us this morning the most comforting words. She wrote, “A long time ago I learned that the value of a human life isn't measured in years, but rather by the amount of love given and received.”
I am so grateful for the privilege of having had such a remarkable young person as a friend and coworker and for the legacy that she left our ESL program.
One last thing: I would like to thank my dear friend, Lucia Gallante Johnson, for providing Devon with Reiki treatments that helped lift Devon in mind, body, and soul, and for the love and care she gave to my friend. Lucia’s healing art meant so much to Devon and I will forever be grateful to her.
When Devon first came to the Torrance Adult School, she was a volunteer in the GAC media center. One of our teachers, Michael told me about her and said she’d be a good candidate for our staff. She didn’t yet have a teaching credential, so we signed her up as an instructional assistant. Mike and Karla kept saying that we really, really needed to hire her and how much the students loved her. So we did, and she did such a great job with the students that, as soon as she was credentialed, we hired her as a teacher. And then we just kept giving her everything she asked for. We didn’t even know how much that was until she went on medical leave and it took 3 people to do her job…inadequately, I might add. We were floored when we figured out how much she was doing and what information she had kept in her head!
Well, you all knew Devon. Anything she did, she did fabulously and, it would seem to us mortals, without effort. She took over the media center class and owned it. The students praised her to me on many occasions and remained in touch and supported her throughout her illness. Our ESL program was on the verge of change beginning with our hiring Karla to help us with instructional technology integration. Devon was all over that! She began helping with tech support. She took over Karla’s job when she went out on maternity leave. Richard Rose, her principal, and I nominated her to the CDE’s Technology Integration Mentor Academy where she learned to train others how to use technology to enhance ESL learning. No big deal? It is to us old teachers who had TVs without remote controls as our starting point.
As the ESL Resource Teacher, it is my job to keep the program moving forward. With Karla and Devon, I could not stop it from doing so. Those two would sashay into my office or set up a meeting with Richard and me and what could we do? Whatever they wanted! Our sole purpose seemed to be getting them whatever they needed to do whatever they had cooked up and ambushed us with. We laughed about how we always felt like our pockets had got picked or like we had once again lost the 3 card Monte they had swindled us in to playing. But it was so fun and exciting! That was Devon! She took everyone along on her wild ride. She would come bounding into my office many afternoons and I would drop everything for Ms. Divine. I had to in order to make sure she didn’t get away with the whole store before she left. Richard and I really had a hard time keeping up.
Those were the most wonderful times of my 10 years in this position. I’ve always enjoyed my job, but I LOVED my job those days. We had everything and everyone we needed to make our already solid program an educational jewel. Devon was making a name for herself throughout the state and I had no illusions that she would be with us forever. I thought she would end up in Sacramento before long. But I never expected to lose her this way. We have lost 6 teachers in the last 10 years, all of these losses hurt and were hard to accept, but Devon was our favorite niece. She stepped into our little home away from home and made herself one of the family helping to arrange celebrations and getting greeting cards for all occasions. She was disarming, managing to get whatever she set her mind to with humor, kindness, and firmness and was never resented. And OK, Karla and I used her. If we needed to get something done that the teachers might object to, we got Devon to do it. And once she was diagnosed with cancer, she gave us full permission to use that to our advantage, too. The ESL teachers showed how much they loved and cared about Devon by contributing enough of their own sick leave hours to keep Devon in paid status with benefits for over a year!
Speaking of getting her way…Devon wanted and desperately needed to return to work. She missed the mental stimulation that work provided for her more than she missed a paycheck. But you can’t work in Torrance if you have medical restrictions. I had to tell her that and it broke my heart. I knew her doctors would never give her a return without restrictions. Well, I underestimated Devon. Saturday, May 17th I got an email from her that said, “I can’t wait to share this with you. See attachment.” It was a return to work form without restrictions! I told her I did not even want to hear how she got it, but she replied, “Persistence, that’s all. See you Monday!” That’s all?! That’s ALL! I still don’t know how she did it.
For me it was the chance I never thought I would get, to work with her again, to see her every day, to experience her brilliance at work, and to have a chance to try to make life just a little easier for her. I was able to savor the moments with her as if I had been given a “do over.” We don’t get a lot of “do overs” in life but Devon gave me one I had never dared hope for. Devon’s return to my daily life reminded met that we must savor each day. Every time Devon climbed “Mount Everest” (what she called the ramp to my door) to come see me, competing emotions of joy at having her with us and regret at knowing our time together would soon end overwhelmed me. One of our coworkers who knows something about loss wrote to us this morning the most comforting words. She wrote, “A long time ago I learned that the value of a human life isn't measured in years, but rather by the amount of love given and received.”
I am so grateful for the privilege of having had such a remarkable young person as a friend and coworker and for the legacy that she left our ESL program.
One last thing: I would like to thank my dear friend, Lucia Gallante Johnson, for providing Devon with Reiki treatments that helped lift Devon in mind, body, and soul, and for the love and care she gave to my friend. Lucia’s healing art meant so much to Devon and I will forever be grateful to her.
Monday, September 29, 2008
A Father's Tribute
We often think that if a child turns out well, the parents must have done a good job. I think the opposite is true, too: a good child can make any parent look good! Sometimes I think this was the case with Devon. She had a quality about her—subtle, like a little breeze—that made everyone around her feel good and be better. Her infectious smile and joyful spirit left an indelible mark on all of us. As a daughter, she could make a good father out of a most ordinary man.
When Devon was two we took her to Flintstones Park in the Black Hills of South Dakota. She loved all the characters—Fred, Wilma, Bamm Bamm, Dino, Hoppy and the Great Gazoo—but her favorite was Pebbles. She ran up to Pebbles and gave her a big hug. She and Pebbles looked like twins, so from that day on I called her Pebbles. That was a happy moment, one of thousands I’ve had with her. For the rest of her life I’d call her Pebbles just for fun and she’d sign my father’s day cards or birthday cards, “Love, Devon, Your Pebbles.”
It is easy to idealize Devon. From her earliest days in social activities—whether it was hugging a Flintstone, playing with her friends or being part of more formal organizations, like soccer teams, Indian Maidens, ballet class, or a Munchkin in the Wizard of Oz—she could read the cues of people around her and respond appropriately—a hug for those who needed one, a pass to someone in the open field, sharing a bullfrog with a friend who couldn’t find one on her own. She had a finely tuned social intelligence.
Throughout her childhood Devon developed as if she were on autopilot. We only had to feed and clothe her and drive her to her activities—school, soccer, the dentist, a friend’s house—and then pick her up later when it was time. She was so independent—I should say, healthily interdependent—that she almost evolved on her own. I felt lucky to be such a participant-observer in a loving child’s life. The job seemed simple: Support Devon in doing what she wanted. Follow her: she knows where she’s going! As someone posted on her blog, Devon was “a person you couldn’t say no to!” –either because you knew she was right or you knew if you did say no, you’d regret it later! She had, as someone else wrote, “the ability to gently disarm you” without your knowing it and recruiting you into her service. Devon was an easy child to raise, if ‘raise” is the right word. She had advanced leadership skills by age 9!
I was fortunate to be Devon’s father, though at times I felt I had to live up to some pretty high standards! She literally showed me ways to be better at what I am, as a person, a father and a teacher. Three years ago, she showed me how to make PowerPoint presentations and set up my own blog! I was an old-school chalk and blackboard professor and a simple writer! I had fun with the new skills she gave me. I made nice slide presentations for my classes and wrote a lot of illustrated essays on the blog she set up for me. She was a good teacher, very patient with her forgetful and slow-learning dad, emailing me the same instructions over and over again on how to grade papers online using the Insert and Comment features.
Devon seemed born with the ability to do the right thing at the right time. She had a built-in guidance system, an awareness of the moment, of being in the moment, and of knowing whom she was with. While she was accepting of life, she was driven as an artist is driven to shape the stuff of life into the image of her ideals. She was unstoppable in the pursuit of her goals. When The Lion King came out on DVD in 1994, she persuaded me to buy it and watch it with her. It was about a father lion, Mufasa, and his son, Simba, and how the son had to overcome conflict within himself to rise up and take his rightful place in the pride, in “the circle of life.” She knew I’d like it because of my work conducting fatherhood workshops. She knew I’d connect with the story’s theme, voiced by Simba’s slain father in deep tones coming down from a darkened sky: “Simba, look inside yourself. You have forgotten who you are. Look deep. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.” Devon was 14 at the time and I was going through some personal struggles. Following her instincts, she led me to look inside myself through this animated drama and be more than what I had become. That afternoon I wrote an essay about fatherhood which was later published in the Fresno Bee. We all have emotionally significant events in our life, personal turning points, small bursts of insight—or, in this case, a quantum leap of understanding! Being nudged by Devon, driving with her to the store, buying this DVD, watching it with her at home, and then writing an essay that integrated for me my place in the “circle of life”—this was a major emotionally significant event. I imagine for Devon, watching and enjoying a DVD with dad, it was something deeper, too.
One of the more memorable moments I’ve had with Devon occurred the day she came home from school after having a unit in world religions. She was 16. She asked me, “Dad, What am I.”
We had never been active in any organized church or religion, so, given the context of her question, I said, “Well, you are whatever you choose to be. It’s your decision to make.” She then asked, “Well, what are you?” This was more difficult. I described my childhood identity growing up in a large, devout Irish-German Catholic family and how I had de-activated that identity during my university years and replaced it with something more philosophical and nebulous, like an existential-humanistic-phenomenological view of myself and the world. I then got concrete and told her that I was simply trying to live my life by being honest, caring, fair, hard-working and open-minded…with the emphasis on “trying.” I’m sure I lost her with the abstract mumbo jumbo talk, but she did get the basics—honesty, caring, hard-working, fair. I sometimes wonder if she learned to be these things or if they were just in her DNA! What struck me most about this discussion, though—the “teachable moment,” as we call it—is that she asked ME what she was. I thought of how much trust we place in people when we ask them to explain to us who we are. We wouldn’t ask a stranger, “Who am I?” Only someone we trust. I felt another notch of responsibility in this moment and sensed, too, that a shift had occurred in Devon’s development: She was seriously probing the depths of her spiritual identity.
Over the next 12 years, on up until her very last week, Devon continued working out her own answers to the question of who she was. Judging by her writings, the perceptions we all have of her, and the way she conducted herself on the last day of her life, it’s clear she succeeded in achieving a self-confident and well-integrated view of herself. She was authentic, genuine, exuberant and real—a measuring stick of how we might be. A mirror: In her we saw a reflection of pure principles—honesty, fairness, compassion, love of others, intelligence, organization, efficiency, confidence, competence, a great work ethic—the qualities of a beautiful and well functioning human being! How profound is her loss, how deeply we will miss her!
For Devon there were no complaints, no excuses. She believed we are as much the producers of our own destiny as we are products of our past. We are not victims, not martyrs, but determined men and women facing with vision, discipline and moral purpose every challenge life places in our way. She understood that we are interconnected with each other, whether we want to be or not. She was empathic yet maintained healthy boundaries. Her life exemplified how we continually create ourselves through our choices—in school, in friendships, in our work, in all our relations. We either do the right thing or we learn to do it. Even on the very last day of her life, she was trying to get nurses and doctors and her parents to do the right thing, directing us to rub here or there on her neck, organizing in her mind how she was going to get to work next week and use that giant desk and the table and chairs she had us gather from all around Los Angeles to get her work done.
But it was not meant to be.
“There comes a point in everybody’s life,” the novelist James Patterson wrote, “when you realize the stakes have suddenly changed. The carefree ride of your life slams into a stone wall and all those years of bouncing along, of life taking you where you want to go, abruptly end.” So it was with Devon—an abrupt and cataclysmic end to such a meaningful, vibrant life.
Maybe the most enduring lesson to be drawn from Devon’s life is about love and friendship. I experienced Devon’s love and friendship in a very special way, as everyone else did in their own special way. To me she was not just a good daughter—she had become in the end, a very special friend. The poet Gibran wrote that one effect of friendship is “the deepening of the spirit” and that when we part from a friend we needn’t grieve too long, for “that which we love in our friend may be clearer in her absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.” Today, Devon is the mountain and we are standing on the plain.
Louis F. Markert
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