Blog archive
March 2025
Racism is Not Genetic
03/11/2025
Bill Gould, The First
03/07/2025
THIS IS A CHAPTER, NOT MY WHOLE STORY
03/07/2025
Dramatic Flair: Villagers Share their Digital Art
03/03/2025
Empowering Senior LGBTQ+ Caregivers
03/03/2025
A Life Never Anticipated
03/02/2025
Eaton Fire Changes Life
03/02/2025
February 2025
Commemorating Black History Month 2025
02/28/2025
Transportation at the Pasadena Village
02/28/2025
A Look at Proposition 19
02/27/2025
Behind the Scenes: Understanding the Pasadena Village Board and Its Role
02/27/2025
Beyond and Within the Village: The Power of One
02/27/2025
Celebrating Black Voices
02/27/2025
Creatively Supporting Our Village Community
02/27/2025
Decluttering: More Than The Name Implies
02/27/2025
Hidden Gems of Forest Lawn Museum
02/27/2025
LA River Walk
02/27/2025
Message from the President
02/27/2025
Phoenix Rising
02/27/2025
1619 Conversations with West African Art
02/25/2025
The Party Line
02/24/2025
Status - Feb 20, 2025
02/20/2025
Bluebird by Charles Bukowski
02/17/2025
Dreams by Langston Hughes
02/17/2025
Haiku - Four by Fritzie
02/17/2025
Haikus - Nine by Virginia
02/17/2025
Wind and Fire
02/17/2025
Partnerships Amplify Relief Efforts
02/07/2025
Another Community Giving Back
02/05/2025
Diary of Disaster Response
02/05/2025
Eaton Fire: A Community United in Loss and Recovery
02/05/2025
Healing Powers of Creative Energy
02/05/2025
Living the Mission
02/05/2025
Message from the President: Honoring Black History Month
02/05/2025
Surviving and Thriving: Elder Health Considerations After the Fires
02/05/2025
Treasure Hunting in The Ashes
02/05/2025
Villager's Stories
02/05/2025
A Beginning of Healing
02/03/2025
Hectic Evacuation From Eaton Canyon Fire
02/02/2025
Hurricanes and Fires are Different Monsters
02/02/2025
January 2025
At Dawn by Ed Mervine
01/31/2025
Thank you for Relief Efforts
01/31/2025
Needs as of January 25, 2025
01/24/2025
Eaton Fire Information
01/23/2025
Escape to San Diego
01/19/2025
Finding Courage Amid Tragedy
01/19/2025
Responses of Pasadena Village February 22, 2025
01/18/2025
A Tale of Three Fires
01/14/2025
A Christmas Goodbye
By Edward A. RinderlePosted: 12/02/2021
By Ed Rinderle
It's Christmas Eve, and the hospital emergency room is abuzz with activity. Hospital staffers hurry to and fro to help those in immediate need: a woman with a knife wound suffered while preparing Christmas dinner; an older gentleman shocked by faulty wiring while putting up Christmas lights; a young man writhing on a gurney, the victim of a gunshot wound; a middle aged women black and blue from being beaten with a shoe by her drunken husband.
Donny sits there, amid all the misery, feeling a different kind of pain. He has just brought in Laura, his beloved wife, who moments ago, in the midst of pre-Christmas preparations, suddenly dropped to the floor unconscious.
Donny anxiously waits for news from the doctors who are working to save his beloved. To counteract
his fears, he focuses on the Christmas tree in the nearby foyer and lets his mind drift to memories of
Christmases past . . .
Christmases of his youth. Returning from church with his sister, mom, and dad. Shedding their
“Sunday clothes” for more comfortable attire. The Christmas tree shining brightly in the picture window
and the carols on the stereo provide a perfect backdrop. The family opens their Christmas packages one
by one, taking turns. Later they play charades, then dine around the kitchen table. The food is great. The
wine flows. Laughter abounds. At the day’s end they retire, and Donny's heart is filled with joy and
peace.
He and Laura have had their share of special Christmases, too. They have borrowed some of the
memories from their childhoods and made them part of their own Christmases, usually with family or
friends. When alone, they would snuggle by the fire in their living room, enjoying the neighborhood
Christmas lights from their bay window. Donny cherishes all of these memories, too.
Donny longs for those Christmases past. He savors the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of those times.
Best of all, he can feel the love.
He wonders, “What will this Christmas hold? Or future Christmases?”
The answer comes as a shock, but not an entirely unexpected one: “I am sorry, Mr. Franklin, but your
wife has suffered a burst aneurysm in her brain.” The doctor shows Donny an x-ray image revealing a
dark shadow engulfing nearly half of Laura's skull. “We can keep her alive artificially, but any kind of
recovery is unlikely.” Donny has a difficult decision to make, but he knows that even if she revives, she
will be only a pale shadow of who she was.
Having made the decision, Donny enters Laura's room. She is sleeping peacefully, an array of machinery
keeping her body alive. He strokes her arm; he holds her hand. She feels so warm and alive. He whisper
words of love and appreciation to her for all the memories she has given him, Christmases and otherwise.
With a gentle kiss on her warm lips, he bids her a heart-felt goodnight. As he does, he seems to feel her
lips, ever so slightly, tighten against his. And the words of an old song flood into his head:
“So kiss me, my sweet,
And so let us part.
And when I grow too old to dream,
That kiss will live in my heart.”
Oscar Hammerstein, II