final farewells to fellow beach lovers

Farewell to you, Panda Ann.
Why attach that sobriquet to her given name?
She would have it no other way.
Of that, I am certain.
She chose to be known as Panda, ostensibly because of the huge tattoo on her left side.
Or was it on her right?
She had revealed it one night at the post-Philo Cafe-discussion at Chili's, but that was long enough ago that the details are lost to me.
Perhaps her wardrobe was carefully chosen to reflect that choice in her new identity.
She was always sporting the black hat with her dark clothes.
When did she get the tattoo?
I don't recall ever knowing that.
Was the work done here in town?
Somehow, I doubt it.
I think it more likely that it was done overseas.
Ann Kropf Unemori.
Now, her ashes will travel to Sandusky, Ohio. (That is also the home of the Merry-Go-Round Museum which I visited during my Midwest-Canada Adventure in 2012.)
Her presence will remain here, though, in the form of her son and two daughters. Two of the three have been active in the philosophy group for the past few years. At last Monday's meeting at Savannah Coffee Roasters, her son even proposed a topic that she had requested of him for the coming Monday's discussion. Now, he will chair the upcoming meeting, as her topic was elected by those of us present.
What topic, you may ask?
"What impossible thing has occurred that you never thought would happen?"
I wonder if Daniel will have an answer from her to share with us. I imagine he will, since she had requested that he broach the subject.
I wonder if her answer will involve dying at age 55 while both of your parents are still alive.
Regardless, that should make for a lively round of ideas. I would imagine, though, that the term "impossible" may need to be defined first.
(smile)
Some of her other favorite topics? "Is it better for your enemies to lose or for you to win?" "Who will be left alive when the aliens come?" "Is revenge best served cold or hot?"
Ah, yes, her contrariness will be missed.
And how did I know about her fondness for the beach?
Her son told me.
On Monday, as the six of us (me, Cedric, Connie, Gwen, Ellen, and Daniel) were continuing in each others company at Chili's, as is our wont, he was talking about his mom and her last few days. He related that Cedric had brought his guitar to Hospice and played "Amazing Grace" as the last song. He said how much that song had meant to all of them.
He also spoke of a kindness on the part of the team transferring his mom from the hospital to Hospice. When they asked if there was anywhere she wanted to go, she had responded that she would like to see the ocean, as it had been a while. So, down to Tybee they went. They didn't stay long, but they did set her up so she could enjoy the view one more time.
That was very good of them.
I know she appreciated it greatly.

Marlin was a beach lover, too.
She had found Tybee to her liking thirty years ago and decreed it as her new home.
Living down there and dancing on the sand certainly agreed with her.
I had no idea she was 75 years old.
That's almost Mama's age.
I had thought she was just a few years older than me.
This photo shows how wrong I was about that.
I had snapped it as part of several to commemorate the occasion at the August 11, 2009, ballgame. Dr. Cedric Stratton, the British contingent of Philo Cafe, was to sing the national anthem in his rich baritone and some of us fellow philosophers had come out for morale support.
None of us knew that Carl Fleischaker, the former sailor sitting beside her, would be dead in just three short months.
Marlin took his death very hard. She was especially hurt that the news took so long to get to her. She even quit coming to the philosophy group for a couple of years.
Now, she's gone, too.
Marlin Jeanette Brown-Gordon.
The news about her traveled to interested parties much faster. She would have been pleased about that improvement in communication.
(See? Facebook is good for something, after all.)
I will miss seeing you at the Sand Gnats' games, your mass of platinum curls bowed over the score sheet, your Pink In The Park jersey announcing your presence behind home plate and three rows in front of Mister Willie on the green-painted wooden bleachers.

I will miss both of these women.
I wish I could have known them better.