Henry and Michael

I took two cans of salmon south to Dad when I flew to San Diego last weekend.  I already heard second hand that he opened one and found it delicious.  We went back to the Wildfish BBQ for dinner the other evening, just three blocks from our house, and I had to buy a couple more cans, this time a sockeye and a king salmon.

In talking to the owner, I found out she has the little restaurant and cannery for sale, and has for quite a while.  She told me the Log Cabin RV Park and Cabins, just across the street, have also been for sale for a while.  I know that there are two businesses in Craig that have also been for sale for up to two years.  This speaks volumes about the shape of the economy on Prince of Wales Island.  Sport and commercial fishing are not getting any better either.  The new Vo-Tech Center is about to begin construction, but it’s impact on employment will not likely be significant. 

The owner of Wildfish told me there had been a bear about recently.  We knew this already:  it had been at our house three nights last week!  Each time it riles up Lakota, which wakes us up with her growling and barking.  The first time was when the trash was out.  The bear knocked down the trashcan, hoping it would spill, which it didn’t happen, so he moved on.  The next night, he or she came back, sniffed around where the trashcan had been, then ambled off, but of course, not before Lakota got all riled up.  (Update:  I had to chase it away from our trashcan twice last night!  It figured out how to get the top off, despite the bungy cord.  It wouldn't leave the first time, and the dogs were going crazy trying to get out of the house!  Finally it ran off.  An hour later, it was back, and popped the top again.)

September 25, 2012

“Henry's started watching a TV show called Super Why. It's a group of characters with special powers: Word Power, Spelling Power, Alphabet Power, Power to Read, and, the viewer with the Power to Help. They solve problems by consulting books, changing fairy tales into lessons. Throughout, they ask questions of the viewer. Henry loves it. He puts his hand in when they join in the beginning. He says his name when they ask: "Henry Oscar CaMannell!" He yells out letters when they ask, "What letter is this?" and he points out "Super letters" when they float onto the screen. He repeats lines and jumps up and down when they solve the problem. 

In the mornings I watch him giddy to learn, spinning on his tippy-toes and clapping. "Hip hip horray," he squeals. “

Kelli and Brady and Friends, Genesee Gardens Apt, 1981

Brady's Third Birthday, with cousins Jenny and Tim and Kristin, 1981

What would you do, if your daughter was writing blog posts like the one above, and you were living 3,000 miles away from this precious new being that is Henry?  What would you do, if you were nearly obnoxious dropping hints for a grandchild, finally got the most precious gift in the universe, and then found yourself moving 2500 miles away from him just eight months into his life?  What would you do, if you ended up missing both of his first two birthdays?  What would you do? 

Lately there has been a sun-faded maroon ~1990 Ford Tempo running around Klawock.  It’s a virtual clone of the car my brother-in-law drove for years, and so I think of him, and miss him, every time I see it.  When we moved back to San Diego with toddler Brady, and no jobs, Michael agreed to move in with us and share the rent, which was a Godsend, the only way we could live in a decent place.  We found a large apartment next to Juvenile Hall, in a nice apartment complex, with a lawn right outside our door.  It was close to our families, close to the freeways, very convenient.  Several years later, we found a large house in Allied Gardens, and Michael moved with us, again making it possible for us to have a nice house to rent.  Without Michael's help, we would have been forced to live in a not-so-nice part of town, in a not-so-nice place.  

Michael was probably the most intelligent person I've ever known.  He was the most degreed, too.  He was kind and thoughtful, and loved animals.  As kind and intelligent as he was, he never really found a way to share those special gifts with the world, beyond his family and friends, too.     

He passed away about two and a half years ago, five days after his mother died.  I think of him every time I see that faded maroon Tempo, remember the great political discussions we had, fun reviewing movies, the occasional sports talk (he knew a lot more about sports than I'll ever know), the way he loved our kids, and dogs, and books and reading, and newspapers.  I miss you, we miss you, Michael.