Colleen

It's kind of embarrassing. John Weeks left a message on my phone. He said Colleen wasn’t doing well. Some complications had interfered with her cancer treatment. He said the family was holding a fast for her and praying, "The Lord's will be done." Since that message I've found myself wiping tears off my cheeks at random moments. I have no warning of when they are going to start falling. I just know that I'm sad. I'm relieved. But I'm sad.

Colleen has always been in my life. I never remember life without her. She was in every way a big sister to me. I loved visiting her at 6 Deerfield Lane in Walnut Creek, Calif. She had her own room. There was a full-length mirror on the back of her door. Around the mirror she had pictures of her friends. I loved, LOVED, laying on her bed while she told me about the friend in each picture. She told me about their friendships, their lives, and families. These talks we shared taught me so much about acceptance, friendship, unconditional love.

It was always fun when we went to Walnut Creek to visit our cousins. You never knew what you would be doing once you got there. Sometimes we collected tadpoles and frogs. Sometimes we took cardboard up on the hill, sat on it, and rode through the golden straw at break neck speed. It was like sledding only it wasn't cold or wet. We always had Thanksgiving with the Weeks. It seemed like the turkey was never done on time. One Thanksgiving after waiting endless hours to eat, someone (probably one of our moms) suggested we go to a movie. We were promised that dinner would be ready when we got back. I do not remember a time when I laughed so hard for so long. It was an Elvis Presley movie. I think it was called TICKLE ME. I sat with Colleen and we laughed and laughed. This goes down as one of my favorite Thanksgivings ever.

Trips to San Francisco, (it was on one of these trips that Colleen explained to me what it meant when I saw two men kissing), the beach, Eichler Swim and Tennis Club, shopping, movies, Mark’s football games, a Primary Halloween party where they sang a scary song and at the end everyone yelled “BOO”. I threw up. Colleen helped me because it was in her ward. No one knew me and I was so embarrassed.

In 1973 (or so) due to the fact that our beloved dog, Teto, was having problems in California, we packed up and moved to Provo. Around that same time Colleen had finished up at Rick’s College and also moved to Provo. She was attending B.Y.U. She lived in the Elms apartments. I was in the middle of my sophomore year of high school when we moved. It was terrifying. The worst part of the day was lunch. I knew no one. I couldn’t risk walking into the cafeteria and having no one to sit with so I would walk around the block until the bell rang. One day I ran into Colleen. She asked me what I was doing. I explained the dilemma. She and I made a plan. We met at a little store on University, bought lunch and ate together. It wasn’t every day. But it was enough to help me get through a very tough time in my life.

Colleen often let me tag along with her and her college friends. We made many trips to Marie Calendars for pie in those days. It seemed like there was always some kind of college drama going on. There was a boy that had a huge crush on Colleen. His name was Randy. I also remember her friend, Candy. Sally, Mike Westover’s then girlfriend lived down the street from the Elms. We went over and visited her from time to time. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sally and Colleen were together right now overseeing this service.

Time marched on. I graduated in 1976. In August of that year I moved to Rexburg Idaho to attend college at Rick’s. It was that New Year’s Eve that Colleen and her friend were in an awful accident. Her friend was killed and Colleen was seriously hurt. That was a horrible phone call I received from my mom. It was so unbelievable and heart breaking. She was in Los Angeles and in a coma. We waited and waited to see if she would make it, and recover. Many, many prayers, fasts, and blessings were offered in her behalf. Finally she began to improve. It was slow at first. She had to relearn everything. But her strong will and determination brought her to the point that she was functioning and taking back her life.

She went on a mission to Ohio. While on her mission I got married. She scolded me for not waiting for her to get home. One day soon after she returned from her mission, she stopped by my grandma’s little house (where we lived) on 5th North. I was sprawled out on the living room floor feeling very sorry for myself. I was experiencing the insidious nausea associated with early pregnancy. She walked back to the kitchen and started laughing. Not one single clean dish was to be found. First she told me off, then she immediately went to work washing my dirty dishes. I begged her to stop but she washed them all.

In the early 90’s I flew up to Seattle to visit Colleen. This was before Aunt Katherine moved up there. We went to the temple, ate lunch in the Space Needle, visited numerous members of Colleen’s ward, dropped off handmade afghans at a home for AID’s patients, attended sacrament meeting, visited Colleen’s brother, Jim and his family. It was such a fun trip! So much like the old days when we were kids. Everything we did was centered on serving others. The truth that played over and over in my head was that everyone, EVERYONE, loved Colleen. She had the ability to make people feel comfortable, wanted, needed, important, smart, cute, funny, special, valued, and loved. She showed me tons and tons of pictures of her nieces and nephews. There were drawings, cards, notes, pictures, and all sorts of things from them. She showed me each one with pride. She loved them all so much. I felt a little more connected to the cousins I had grown up with but never saw anymore. They had grown into amazing men and were raising wonderful families. Families that were lucky enough to have Colleen in their lives.

Colleen was so supportive of us. She came to Utah often to be with us for family events. Several times she stayed at my house. One night Colleen, Ron, and I stayed up until 3:00 in the morning talking. I was impressed with the strong spirit that dwelled in our home that night. Colleen’s testimony was so evident, strong, and unwavering. She spoke so openly about her feelings for the gospel, her life, and the hereafter. This conversation and many others have helped me know that she is happy where she is now.

I had another opportunity to stay with Colleen (and this time Aunt Katherine too) in Seattle. My oldest daughter Holly was driving a van and trailer up to Vashon Island for an internship with Rick’s college.
Once Holly was settled and ready for the semester, I took the ferry back over to Seattle and spent some time with Colleen and Aunt Katherine. We had so much fun. Aunt Katherine took us to lunch at a small Italian restaurant across the water. We talked about our families, memories, stories about the mortuary, and stories about my parents. That night Colleen and I again talked late into the night. I treasure the memory of that visit.

The last memory I would like to share is that of how much my Uncle Stan adored Colleen. He teased her mercilessly. She always had great and clever comebacks. I can still see him tossing his head back as he laughed. I remember it like it was yesterday.

I’m going to miss Colleen. She was a source of bright light in my life. She has been an example to me. I am so thankful for the memories. The tears aren’t dripping down my cheeks as often but they still come. And they will for a very long time.