Recent Remembrances

Cousin Tammy has become, with much hard work and time, a master cake maker/decorator. Last month she made the most wonderful cake, celebrating Mom as a writer. So here you are:

"The Storyteller"--Enjoy!

Tammy also pointed us to Amazon, where Rock-A-Bye Farm continues to charm readers.

All of you helped us fill the room to capacity, and then some with your appreciation and love for Diane. Thank you. And if we didn't get a chance to talk it was only because there were so many of you--we are grateful for all of your support.


Dear All,

We finally have put up photos of the memorial service and some of the happy times we (and you) spent with Diane in April and March. As we work through photos we'll put more up, so check back every now and then.

-nate


Here are the photos of Diane and her various crews 'round April:

And of all of you who kindly made the trek to Vancouver to join us in celebrating Diane:

(Thanks to Uncle Dave for manning the camera.)

Pie!
You were all so good and left your shoes on the porch as Di requested.

Celebration photos coming soon

Thanks to all of you for joining us on Saturday to honor mom's life and her cherry pie. Your presence and words were warm and strong. Please check back here in a bit if you'd like to see photos from the celebration.

- Valarie

In Memorium

Dear to Diane's heart was Pimpollo, a children’s home in Juchitan, Mexico. The photo above shows Diane on one of our trips there working her face painting magic on the kiids.

Also you probably do not know that Diane's grandmother, Jesse Trueworthy, ran an orphanage, the Paul Clark Home, in Butte, Montana for many years in the 1940s' and 50s'. Diane often recounted vivid memories of spending time there as a child, right down to the squeak of the bed springs in the frigid upstairs girls dormitory.

As one of her final wishes, Diane asked that I make a donation to Pimpollo in her name. As some have asked, if you would like to join me you may do so by going online to FriendsofPimpollo.org making a donation and noting in the "Comments" field Diane Hamm Memorial. You may also send a check care of Friends of Pimpollo to:

Friends of Pimpollo
P.O. Box 1107
Salem, OR 97308

Thanks!

Jeff

Join Our Celebration of Mom

Help us celebrate who mom was and what she's left behind--from her art and life philosophy to her family and famous cherry pie.

We hope to see you there.

- The Hamm Family

Celebration - Saturday, May 9th, 3:00 pm
Red Cross Building (E.B. Hamilton Hall)
Fort Vancouver
605 Barnes Road
Vancouver, WA 98661

Cherry Pie Chowdown - Post-Celebration to 7:30 pm
You bring yourself; we'll provide mom's pie.
Mom and Dad's house
2223 D Street
Vancouver, WA 98663

-0-

Our beloved Diane. Died 4 am, April 29, 2009.

These snapdragons are treasured in our family and they have been the view from Mom's bed for the past few days. Dad and Lorie wrote down these words from Mom about the dragons early Sunday morning:

"...For me that picture has always been a picture of joy-[a] picture of our family. I have loved that picture; it contains our family lightness. Darkness helps contrast the lightness so you appreciate it. Unless it’s there, you don’t see the joy. And it’s noisy, and there is chatter and activity, just like a barnyard. I would have to paint you a picture but given my present state…."

Bless all of you for your kindnesses, large and small.

-nate


We will post details of the memorial service in a little while

Picture of the evening

I'm sitting in the red chair in the living room, at mom's feet. This is the chair the family has snuggled in, read in, cried in, dozed in since my childhood. (Mom and dad once said they'll be giving each of us kids a "red chair" when we marry; for now, we all share this one.)

Mom is in the hospital bed. We moved her there yesterday in order to more easily adjust her resting position. I'd hoped she would die sitting on the couch--more homey, less medical--but the bed makes sense given how difficult it's become to move her.

She's asleep. A slight grunt comes with nearly every exhale. A washcloth on her head. The knobby blue shawl covers her skinny shoulders and deflated breasts. On the bookcase, a mug of flat gingerale, untouched since this morning. Beautiful flowers to my right. A card from Sarah, with a picture of Port Townsend's Chetzemoka Park (mom's favorite), displayed to my left.

Jesse and Nathan are on the couch. Nathan: researching the stages of death...what to do afterwords...trying to prepare for something you can't really prepare for. Jesse: reflective and quiet...so gentle.

An unframed painting of mom's is propped along the windowsill..it's of pears...four versions in a row like stop action photography. Mom rediscovered the painting when we sorted through her sketches three weeks back; dad liked it so much he snagged it for his office but hasn't had a chance to take it there yet.

Aunt Lorie kisses mom's forehead and heads to bed. Dad settles in on the green couch.

We sit. Watch. Wait.

Is this the last night?

Valarie