Remembering Emmett

Emmett Chase was unforgettable ~

A special education teacher who excelled in his work with autistic students, he changed his name (twice!), learned to read and speak the almost forgotten Native American language called chinuk wawa, and listed the locations of Monkey Puzzle trees he spotted around Portland (mementos of the 1905 Lewis & Clark Centennial Exposition).  When we were married in 2005, he presented me with a bunch of dandelions, roots and dirt attached, with the promise that he would always be in my life like those prolific weeds, ineradicable.

Sadly, that was not to be.  Just before our fourth anniversary, Emmett was diagnosed with brain cancer.  Determined to beat "those alien bastards,"  he received 55 radiation treatments and agreed to an experimental drug with a potential side effect of brain hemmorhage, because the doctor said it was his best chance.  Despite his optimism and the best efforts of his doctors, Emmett died at home on December 23, 2009.  One of my most treasured possessions is the letter he wrote to me during the last year of his life.

Our wedding day, March 12, 2005

We met in the summer of 2003.  An accomplished square dancer and former president of River City Dancers, Emmett invited me to attend square dance lessons that fall, and I surprised myself by saying yes.  Over the course of the next few months, I learned that this smart, funny, romantic man shared my love for literature and the theater.  After he recited T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" from memory on our first date, I knew I was hopelessly hooked.

We were married on March 12, 2005, the day before my 50th birthday. We bought a house and blended our families: my 14-year-old twins, his 14-year-old daughter and 13-year-old son.  A wonderful storyteller, Emmett loved to fabricate bedtime stories for his son Alec and daughter Laura.  He often did the same for me, but I rarely heard the end of his stories because his melodious voice lulled me to sleep.

When Emmett and I first met and we were both at work, he emailed me dozens of poems by various authors and on many topics.  During our marriage, his special occasion cards and daily notes were sweet, like this Valentine's Day card: "I would propose to you if we weren't already married."

Near Mt. St. Helens, fall 2006

Our short time together was rich with experience: travels to Puerto Vallarta, Cabo San Lucas and Lake Chelan, WA.  Time at home with our four children and three cats in the yard.  Gardening together - those amazing giant sunflowers we took pictures with, using a tall ladder!  The terrific community of square dancers that Emmett welcomed me into.  Swing dance lessons, East and West Coast.  Accompanying him to Camp Cody on Mt. Hood, where he dug in the dirt with the Oregon Archaeological Society while I hiked around the lake, happy to be there with him.

In July 2009, Emmett sat down to write letters to his children, his siblings, and me.  He typed them, because his handwriting had gotten hard to read.  When he finished the letters, he placed them in long plain envelopes with our names written in Sharpie. We weren't to read them until he was gone.

This is a portion of my letter:

My wonderful wife, friend, helpmeet, support, lover, companion:

Here, in the closing days of a hot July, I take pen in hand to write what I trust are not anywhere near my final words and thoughts at this time.  In a few weeks I will experience a risky therapy and I take great comfort in knowing that you will be there with me, come what may. 

At our wedding in the park, as you will recall, I declared my undying love for you to be like unto a dandelion, a stubborn prevalent weed, ineradicable, ubiquitous, impossible to vanquish.  So it remains.  Let me into your life, and here I stay.  Your symbol for me at that moment was a flower, the sweet rose, beauty beyond compare.  My symbol was a little goofy, but apt, don't you think?  Only fate will remove this Dandy Lion from you now.

For the times I have distressed you, I am dreadfully sorry.  When I pleased you, made you laugh, comforted you, inspired you in turn, surprised or delighted you with a song or a poem - for these moments I shall carry the memories always.  I know you will do the same.  Did I mention that I love you immeasurably?  Get used to it.

Losing Emmett was the hardest trial I've ever faced, but I'm grateful to have known and loved this wise, unforgettable man.  I shall carry the memories always, and keep his letter close to my heart.

And yes, dandelions are taking over my yard.