Confluence of events

There was a birthday party at the Elks Club yesterday. The affair honored Eddie Parkins. He's turning 90 this year, and the family decided to take advantage of summer time for the celebration.

I was supposed to go, but unpredicted events got in the way.

First, there was the call from my niece who had come to town to do the Long Bridge swim for the first time. She and her sister had joined their aunt on the Thompson side of the family, along with a few hundred other swimmers, to stroke their way across Lake Pend Oreille Saturday morning.

They all succeeded, and all were thrilled with the achievement. Maureen said they'd be stopping by after their trip up to Schweitzer to take in the Huckleberry Festival on the mountain.

A little later I received a call from my sister Laurie. Rosie, one of their beloved Arabian mares, had taken a turn for the worse. She's not been doing so well for the past three weeks. My sisters and the vet have gone to great lengths to figure out why.

The last effort was to try antibiotics because the vet had found an infection that might be causing the problem but also could have resulted from the problem. A day after starting the antibiotics, Rosie seemed much worse. It was decision time.

When a horse is euthanized, it takes coordination for the vet and for the kind people who come to bury the animal. Our family has been fortunate, with the horse losses over the past few years, to have caring people helping at these highly emotional times. Yesterday Mark Johnson from down the road came to help.

So, a lot of people arrived at the Colburn ranch at the same time for different reasons. My niece, her boys and her hubby visited with Mother. In the barn area, tears were abundant. In the meadow surrounded by a grove of trees down south of the arena where Rosie now lies beside her buddy Reyvan, caring family and friends saw that she began her eternal rest peacefully.

It was a confluence of emotions, filled with memories, filled with visiting and filled with deep understanding of dignity, respect and love. All involved, whether visiting a grandmother or tending to a beloved horse's needs, did their part and did it well.

Bill and I later came home, relieved for Barbara and Laurie who had experienced some heavy hearts sprinkled with glimmers of hope over the past few days while caring for Rosie.

We walked in the house. There was a message on my answering machine. It was Claire Sodorff, telling me that her husband Richard had passed away overnight and asking for help with his memorial.

Richard "Dick" Sodorff served as principal at Sandpoint High School for 22 years. I knew him from the time I was in the fourth grade at Lincoln School when he, as principal of Washington School, had some to show us the new game of tether ball.

He was my principal when I went through Sandpoint High School, and, later, he was my first boss when I returned to Sandpoint High School to teach. I've written about him in books and on my blog.

And so, another noted loss of a well-known leader from a special era in this community. Also, another event in the confluence that made up my day, once more reminding me that both life and death are so unpredictable and so simultaneous.

On this morning, my thoughts are a mixed bag as I reflect on yesterday's events and the special memories associated with the most recent series of life and death events (triumphant, poignant, festive, sad, etc.), which so often run together.

~~RIP, Richard, and RIP, Rosie~~