Thank Heavens for Harriet

What harm is there in dreaming, if it eases pain?
What good is reality,
if it blots out hope?
-Bette Bao Lord
"Spring Moon"

When I worked at Charles Schwab & Co. in the 1990’s I had a client who would come to visit me semi-frequently. Her name was Harriet Cutler. She was an elder lady and we ‘hit it off’ with conversation and fondness for one another. She was certainly old enough to be my grandmother but I could still see ‘the young woman’ in her. I even told her so.

When I left Charles Schwab in 1999 we continued our friendship, mostly by the exchange of postcards. She would still travel and would share anecdote happenings of her family, travels and books in her correspondence. She volunteered at the local Santa Monica Library and would love to inspire children to read.

One time I asked her to recommend one of her favorite books to me. She suggested a passion for “Spring Moon” by Bette Bao Lord. I did read that book and absolutely loved it. I learned a lot from it. The story took me to Old China and it shared much wisdom. I gave Harriet much praise for the recommendation.

One time Harriet sent me a photo of her when she was very young after I had requested it. It was fun to see that. She loved to read and write. I loved that about her.

Time has passed and her postcards were becoming fewer and fewer. I did arrange the few times we met for lunch in Santa Monica. It was always my treat.

PHOTO: October 19, 2001
Michael J Armijo, Harriet Cutler
Book Sale, Santa Monica Library
It makes me smile NOW to see how happy I made her feel in the above photograph. I did not really notice it at the time but as I see this photo I recall the snugness of the hug.

Only days ago, on August 28, 2009, I received a phone call from Marcie, Harriet’s daughter. It seems Harriet passed away on July 6, 2009.

She will be very much missed by me. Marcie said that she had an emergency surgery for a perforated ulcer and went through rehabilitation steps. She had been doing just fine. Eventually, she was under 24-hour hospice care at home, passing away in the comfortable setting of her own home. I imagine her surrounded by her many books. I wish I knew more of the titles on her bookshelf. Thank heavens for having a little bit of Harriet in my life.

Twenty-five years ago today:

September 16, 1984
Sunday

I received a phone call from my mother in the morning. She is just fine. All is good.

I telephoned Karen (of England) and we made plans to take the ferry to Angel Island today. We were too late for the noon ferry ride, so I drove her out to my ‘necks of the woods. She liked Alameda. We did some sun bathing out at South Shore Beach and she threw me for a loop when she spoke.
“This reminds me of New Zealand, very much,” Karen said.
I laughed in wonder, having never been to that part of the world.

I saw a guy named John (from La Val’s Pizza) at the beach. He’s a nice guy. I have run into him a few times. Is it just a coincidence?

Karen and I headed for Orange Julius at around 3PM and then over to the Ice-Cream Dock for dessert. We went to my place and I began to nap as she took a shower. The sand can be evil when you are lying out at the beach.
After the shower, Karen came out wearing only a towel and said, “I want to go to bed.”
I was already lying in bed in my underwear.
“Sure,” I said, wondering if she meant ‘sleeping in bed’ or ‘the naughty-naughty in bed’.
We lay there together naked under the covers (I slipped off my underwear). I liked the warmth of her body against mine. I began to make very minor attempts as we both touched a bit.

The sun had both of us quite tired and this was about all that I can say as we both snoozed for a bit. I felt awkward and was kind of nervous.

Soon enough I found myself getting up and I took Karen back home to San Francisco. She was home by 8pm on this Sunday night. I got lost via side streets as I was in the tenderloin area (I think) and then drove through Mission Boulevard and 6th Street until I finally found an entrance to the Bay Bridge.

I went over to mom’s house and munched on some mixed-nuts and sipped thirstily at the orange juice that was remaining in the refrigerator.

I returned back to my house. I was bummed out mainly from my lack of performance with Karen. The freckles on her back were a slight turn off. I guess ‘I could have’ taken advantage of the sensual situation but she seemed the type who just wanted to lay there while I did all of the work.

I telephoned Chris Cordellos. His friend, Grant, answered the telephone. This bummed me out, too. Chris started to insinuate that Grant is ‘the one’ now. I assume they are an item. I acted rather drab on the phone.
Suddenly, Chris said, “I think my mom would sell you her bar for a thousand dollars”.
“Yeah, if only I had the money.”
We pretty much closed our connection at this point.

I guess I miss the Chris Cordellos companionship. I will have to realize that there are new paths I can take.

Now for my shower…
It was a long-awaited shower, too. I am tempted to now call Jim Koran in Los Angeles but I would rather not chance the listening to his recording device again. I will wait for his reply from the card I mailed to him.

I saw a beautiful girl on the beach today (never mind that I was on the beach already with a beautiful girl). This beautiful girl was with that geeky bartender who works at McGee’s Pub on Park Street. He was also with Janice Van Gundy the day I had traffic school.

I saw Michele Mikami at the South Shore Shopping Center, too (another pal from Alameda High School).

I kept thinking of Karen (of England). She told me she kept a diary. I wonder what she wrote about me on this day. The English wench stole a roll of film from me. I did not have the heart to demand that she return it.

She would ask him to find the telltale sign of a beginning or an end.
He never could, and each time she smiled and said,
"It is as it should be".
-Bette Bao Lord
"Spring Moon"