Around the House

My father received radiation treatments for skin cancer that went well. Unfortunately, not long after, he developed encephalitis of the brain that put him on a dowhill slope. He passed on October 2014, a month short of his 100th birthday.

Our grand-daughter visited again this year and spent much of her time with her grandfather. Many other members of the family came to see him. See pictures on the Visits From page.

After an almost 7-year battle with Alzheimer's, my bride passed away peacefully on 9 Dec 2021. Links to materials from her viewing and funeral are below.

In accordance with her wishes, my bride was intered at the Riverside National Cemetery in California on 7 March 2022. The slide show shown at the reception after the ceremony and a brief summary of "Why California?" are below.

Home at Last -- This was meant to be a eulogy at the reception after Betsey's interment but I knew I would choke. She and I came here to the golf course many times. Usually she drove a golf cart with my clubs and those of my best friend. Usually joining us in a second cart were 2 or 3 of my perennial golfing buddies from work. Of the five, only I remain. I intend to turn this into an audio file someday. It's long. You can read it or wait to listen. The slide show from her internment is below. In time, it will be updated of the children's favorite photos of their Mom.

On March 7, 2022, Betsey's children and grandchildren helped me keep a promise I had made 29 years before -- Betsey's remains were buried at the Riverside National Cemetery in Riverside, California, just as she asked. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful spot. The sky was a deep blue, a gentle Santa Ana wind was rustling the palms, and the fresh snow was sparkling on the high peaks of the San Bernardino mountains. The soothing words of the Ukrainian burial service reminded us that for Betsey this was but a transition to where God had always meant her to be.

Some of her family and friends have asked "Why California?" There is no other family buried there, it's not where she was born, she had no way of knowing most of her children would settle there when she made her request so long ago. I know why, but how to explain?

Had this been a March day in 1968, it would have found Betsey preparing the day's meals, watching my grandmother bundling up Okie, a lady of almost 2, and Cassie, born the previous November, for their daily walk, and wondering how she was going to afford a dress for the mandatory formal reception with our new 3-star commander. She looks out the kitchen window of our first house and sees the roses we had planted the previous fall staring to bloom. She loves multihued blossoms of the Peace but it's the deep fragrance of the Crysler Imperial that wins her heart.

We had arrived at Norton AFB the previous July, rushing a week early because my parents said I had received new orders which they could not really decipher except there was something about Los Angeles. Betsey drove the last harrowing miles down the 3-lane (total) road through Cajon Canyon. "Not to worry, just a reorganization," said my boss to be. "Finish your vacation. It will be the last you'll get for quite a while." So we did. After camping in the scorching heat of Lake Mead, we wanted cool! Pismo Beach, north of Vandenburg Air Force Base, filled the bill. In the constant fog, we relaxed, and shivered. We woke up one morning to see Okie walking around the tent, her first steps alone. We played in the sand and splashed in the chilling waters of the Pacific Ocean, which neither of us had seen before. From there it was Sequoia National Park. We camped at an elevation higher than the tallest mountains of the Appalachians of our home, we saw wonders we would remember forever and return to often. Welcome to California!

As we were warned, housing around Norton AFB was a challenge. There was no base housing and rentals were few and very expensive. We scraped together our savings, borrowed a little from my parents, and bought our first house. Compared to the homes we grew up in, it was huge! We put in a patio cover, planted flowers and put in a back lawn. We did all the work ourselves. For the back lawn, I hauled dirt with a wheelbarrow from a nearby abandoned orange grove and Betsey did the leveling, a task that took 3 months. Finally, we were ready for company! Our friend from Ohio and 2 new golfing buddies came out. We sat, drank beer, and talked of what was and what was to be. This was repeated may times with a growing circle of friends, military, contractors, and neighbors. Many of these gatherings were zero or short notice but Betsey always managed to make our guests welcome.

There was a formal military social calendar. Mandatory receptions with a seemingly endless receiving line were held twice a year. We had to give our name at the beginning of the line and always wondered what it would turn out to be at the end. Our local general also gave parties at his home and invited "promising" young officers. I was fortunate to have a job that matched my education, so Betsey and I were always invited. At one, the general, who rather liked pretty young women, noted that Betsey was always pregnant when she came and suggested he should send me on travel more often. Betsey suggested that sending me less often might prove more effective, her first Commander Conquest.

Fast-Forward to 1970. Our third daugher, Tanya is with us, an active child who seemed to instantly learn everything her older sisters knew. Unfortunately, her younger brother Andy lived for only a day, held only once in Betsey's arms and never in mine. We cried at the Mass of the Angels welcoming a new saint into heaven, we watched his little casket rolling down the conveyer belt at the airport, we cherished his little blue crucifix whose ashes are now mixed with Betsey's own. Thankfully, God blessed us with another son, healthy and happy.

It's 1972 and it's time to move. I wrangle an assignment in Boston, still working for the office in California. As we drive through Cajon pass I lament the mountains I will never hike again. Betsey says, "Don't worry, we'll be back!" For the first time, I watch Betsey give birth to our fourth daughter. It's a breech delivery and the doctor warns against additional pregnacies. We still have the same friends. They just have to travel further to see us. I have to deliver some bad news to our contractor and Betsey learns what it's like to be at a Christmas party where everyone (but you) hates your husband. The tour was short and it was time to move to the land of the PhD's, the Weapons Laboratory in New Mexico.

It's 1978. I have been promoted and must pay the price by going to Air Command and Staff College in Alabama. It's been a very busy but very enjoyable 4 years in New Mexico. My commander was director of the base choir and desperately in need of a solo quality soprano -- Commander Conquest 2. Maxwell AFB is very nice: Roller skating with the children, trips to the gulf coast, the feel of the Deep South. Betsey got very engaged in PTA's and shepherding the children through a school system trying to find its way. It was hot and humid but my days at school were short and Betsey and I spent many wonderful afternoons together. I got orders to Iran, then the Shah left and the Ayatollah took over. The officer I was to replace was evacuated but Uncle Jimmy would not admit defeat and I still had orders. They came for our furniture! Finally, Betsey gets a call from me that our orders to Iran were cancelled and I had a new assignment. We are going back to California!

As we got off at the northern exit to Edwards AFB, I looked at the barren desert with nothing but a few antennas visible on the hilltops and said to myself, "God, why have You brought us here?" It was to become perhaps the best assignment in the Air Force. It was here that Betsey came into her own. Edwards is an isolated location so on-base organizations play an important role in the quality of life for the military stationed there. Partly due to the children and partly due to the new friends Betsey quickly made, she became involved in most of the organizations on the base. She discovered that, based on the varied experiences she'd had, she could offer new ideas for things the organizations could do and the roles they could play. Her friends pressured her to run for office and she was elected president of the Officer's Wives Club, the only spouse of a non-rated officer at Edwards to hold that office. I got promoted too, but I was never Lt Col Gogosha, I was always Betsey's husband. Our first extended separation came here when I went off for 6 months of Defense Systems Management College. Our 2-star called her on a regular basis to make sure she was OK in my absence. Commander Conquest 3. Betsey came to Washington for a week of "Graduation Festivities." I will treasure the memory of that week.

Along came a great opportunity, the job of a Combined Test Force Director at Hill AFB in Utah. We were fortunate to inherit an organization with high morale that Betsey was intent on maintaining. This was her first experience as the "big boss's" wife and she knew that the key to the organization was the boss's secretary. Together they arranged social functions, made it possible for families to go watch the missile launches their spouses conducted, and kept the environment "loose" while critical and stressful operations were going on. It was here that Betsey rediscovered her roots, both her mother and father had been born in Utah. It was also here that she learned to fight for her daughters future, insisting they be admitted to college preparatory courses in a culture that relegated their roles to mothers and homemakers. She won! Test programs don't last forever and soon it was time to move. I got a job offer I couldn't refuse. We were off to California yet once again!

My new job involved spending lot's of money on the development of 3 new ICBM guidance systems. My staff included 1 major (soon to retire), 1 captain (soon to become the commander's executive officer), and 10 lieutenants, boys and girls (not yet men and women). Interest rates preclude buying a house but we find a decrepit old place on 2 acres in Redlands to rent. The owner was going to tear it down eventually. It includes a pool and a hot tub. It's party time! Betsey faces with creating social functions for my subordinates the age of our daughters. The result is 1 marriage, 2 "relationships" and numerous counseling sessions. She also receiving calls from spouses complaining about me sending people on travel when their family needs them and other "spousal" concerns. Managing that office is a joint affair and we do it pretty well. Betsey never planned on being a bridesmaid in her 40s! Soon a major decision looms -- I'm up for promotion to colonel. I'd never planned on staying in the Air Force past 20 years but my bride says I'd be a coward not to find out if I'd make it. After a long discussion I agree to stay with the proviso that if selected I would accept meaning at least 3 more years in the Air Force. This is the first time I realize how much my bride loves being in the military, a life I thought I condemned her to when we married and that she had been living for my sake.

It's happened. Betsey is a colonel's wife. She doesn't change but the Air Force world aroung her does. No more waiting for appointments at the hospital, a "please" with every request, invitations to events she didn't know existed, things to do she never expected. She's good at it and she likes it. Again her experience and personality help make good things happen. She becomes a confidant -- Commanders Conquest 4. On the family side, she is suddenly a mother in law then a grandmother. She wears tracks in the freeway between Redlands and the San Fernando Valley and Riverside. She hosts 200 people at once in our home, several times. Her mother comes to live with us and is as happy as I've ever seen her. She has a seizure and dies holding Betsey's hand but didn't die the way she lived, alone. Life for Betsey is good and she revels in it.

I joined the Air Force to fight the Cold War and now we've won. We have 26 years in the military and it's time to retire. I am prohibited by law from working with the contractors I know. The aerospace business is shrinking and good jobs are hard to find. I find a promising job at Edwards but it's 90 miles from home. I try commuting but it's time consuming and dangerous. I share half a homesteading shack with a coworker during the week and come home weekends. Sometimes, Betsey comes to my "Desert Haven" for the weekend and we enjoy things in the Antelope Valley but it's clear she doesn't want to move. Separation is not what retirement was meant to be. Events converge. The VP who was my sponsor with my company and whose job I was to take when he got promoted dies of a heart attack. His job disappears as the Air Force decides to recompete my contract adding support to other test ranges. If my team wins my office will be in Las Vegas. One of our cars is broken into in our driveway and my daughter's jacket stolen. A pipe bomb is set off in the street not far away from the house. Betsey is now living alone during the week and getting nervous. Out of a chance meeting at an airport, I get a job offer in Massachussetts at a significant raise in pay, close to my aging parents and Betsey's high school friends.

Betsey and I are sitting at the dining room table. I've fixed her a Marguerita and she's fixed me a Manhattan. We sip, look at each other and talk. We each have another toddy. "I know it's time to leave here" she says, "but promise me I will be buried here." I promise. We both know that this means the end of the beginning. The people, places, and events that had shaped who we were, as a family, a couple, and as individuals, are done. We will be living their legacy for the rest of our time. We hold hands, kiss and accept the future.

The second part of our life together was wonderful. We had financial security and lived comfortably. Betsey became a traveller, visiting our children and grandchildren and developing a close bond with her sister. She and I went just about everywhere together, becoming closer and closer as the years went by. But, it was not the same. The people were different. The environment was different. Somehow it lacked that element of risk, sponteneity and growth that was the first half of our lives, most of them spent in California. We had opportunities to return but Betsey did not want to. California today was no longer the place she called home -- until now.

So My Pretty Lady, we have brought you to the places and memories closest to your heart. Rest -- your last PCS is over, you're Dun' Movin'; hum a silent song -- Summertime maybe, or Moon River; Remember -- hands held and lingering kisses; And smile that smile that makes you forever precious in our minds.

This is the slide show presented at Betsey's internment.

Betsey started showing symptoms of dementia almost 7 years ago. At first it was very mild and progressed very slowly. After about 2 years she started forgetting how to get home and had to stop driving. 2 years later, she stopped remembering people and places. The diagnosis was then changed to late-onset Alzheimer's. She remembered her Old Fart almost to the very end.

Betsey was cremated. She will be buried in the Veteran's Cemetary in Riverside, CA sometime in late spring.

Gogo's first cancer surgery.

I've had 2 more since but am currently clean.

Eternal Rest. Click	Family Gathered. Click	Memory at Home. Click	Resting at Home. Click	Last Visit. Click	At Cemetary. Click
Last Rites. Click	Mourner. Click	Remembering. Click	#1 Daughter. Click	Family Farewell. Click

Spring Cleaning. Click	Goodbye Sweatshirt. Click	Ah! The Peach Tree. Click	More Stuff. Click	Back to Normal. Click
Spring is here. Click	Big Blossoms. Click	Delicate Color. Click	New Planting. Click	Unusual Dark. Click
Subtle Yellow. Click	Vibrant Yellow. Click	Bushy Color. Click

Last Goodbye. Click	Last Goodbye. Click	Anna is Gone. Click	Back Home. Click
Last Goodbye. Click	Niece from Canada. Click	Beloved Church. Click

The family is gathered.Click	Didi loved this place.Click	Family Lunch.Click	Saying Good-bye.Click	The mourners.Click
Married for 72 years.Click	At peace.Click	A quick summary.Click	A place of memories.Click	Two Cousins.Click
Greeting Friends.Click	A special friend.Click	The last good-bye.Click	Ready for burial.Click	Immediate Family.Click
The whole group.Click	With grandchildren.Click	Mother and Son.Click	The final cover.Click