Letter from FIDM Library Director.

FIDM and their library

I received a wonderful letter the other day from the Director of the Library at FIDM, Los Angeles. They have placed all your books that were donated by Bert (and John Crosse) in the library for use by the students. It's wonderful. I will be going soon to check it out. I decided to scan the letter and post it here for all to read.
Still thinking of you often, Dad and wish you were here to chat with me. Love, illie

"Knowing" Dad

Felicia, I think you knew your grandfather quite well. He was private about many of his feelings, but he also let people know his fun side, his intellectual side, his professional side, his loving side. Many of his children didn't and maybe still don't feel he loved them. I disagree. Dad loved all of us very much, he just didn't show it all the time. He had unconditional love for his kids, and that is the best kind.
I, myself, really appreciate this blog for Dad and I hope you never decide to delete it. I like to check on it weekly and see if there are any posts. I don't know why people don't post, maybe they forget, or maybe they don't like to write much. Maybe they have nothing to say. I don't feel that a blog is unaristocratic. And who are these aristocrats that are being critical? Who's an aristocrat these days? besides the Rockerfellers? Whatever.....
Dad would be so against such a judgment!
Well, schlunk.... I have to get back to work! Miss you, Dad. :-)

Important Realization

This morning I did a lot of writing. A LOT. For some reason today was the day that everything, all my insights and experiences of the past year (2007) came together and made sense and cohered. So I wrote a lot. I always write on the weekends, but today I wrote a miniature book. I think I have enough material to expand it into a full book. And because I am on a roll, and because so much of it had to do with you, Grandpa, I am now writing a blogger entry about it. And I thought, Should I continue to write to this blog? This blog that only a few people are following? This blog that was probably mostly for me, from the beginning? This blog that was supposed to be a place for family to write about you? This blog that is probably watched by more people in Argentina than by people in my own country? Then I thought, Why not?
So here's the thing I realized about you this morning, Grandpa. Actually, more than one thing. 1. I realized that you were not someone who needed to be public about who you were. I was thinking about how little I knew you during your life, and how I feel that I have learned all about you only since you passed away. I have been feeling bad about that, wishing I had talked with you more when you were alive. I'm not saying I didn't know you at all, but there were so many things I didn't know about you. I knew you in only one way, I guess. When there was so much more to you that I didn't know at all. But today I realized that you were not one who needed people to know everything. You were not in the habit of publicizing yourself, publicly "declaring" who you were, everything you thought about, your "beliefs." You kept a lot of it private, and you felt no need to make a "statement" about yourself for all and sundry. So, this means, I realized, that you and I are O.K. It's ok that I didn't know everything about you when you were alive, because you didn't need that. You were alright with me not knowing all about you. So there is no reason for me to feel bad about it. 2. I realized that it is possible to have a relationship with someone after death. I have heard about this before, but I always thought it was weird. Now I am beginning to understand. The way it is possible to love someone without them knowing that you love them. This is eerily similar. But also you are still giving me things, you are still adding to my life, and so it's not one-sided. Except, I can't say thank you, unless this blog post counts as a thank you. 3. I've heard this blogging activity is very un-aristocratic. I wonder if being forgiving would also be called un-aristocratic. (In the sense of a value system, not an economic/class system.) I believe that you, Grandpa, were extremely forgiving and generous with people, and I'm going to continue to forgive and love people who don't forgive me, I'm going to be generous with people who are not generous with me - Not because it's "Christian," but because I believe that it's beneath my dignity to hold a grudge. In a way, I think it is un-aristocratic to be uncharitable to people -- to say they are unworthy. It is more undignified to be unforgiving, in other words.
Also, I think that you have taught me how it is possible to hold one's self in highest esteem - to love oneself - and, at the same time, to be generous to others. In fact one might say you have brought aristocratic and Christian value systems together, although this is probably an imaginative stretch. I am still thinking this one out. But blogging feels good and so does forgiving. I'm trusting my instincts.
P.S. For those who are reading this, I must clarify that this blogging is substantially different from the usual blogging which is done "in public" in the truest sense. This blog is NOT public, not searchable to Google and not known by anyone except for family members. So in a sense, while I might agree that traditional blogging, the confession of feelings to the masses, is un-aristocratic, I don't feel that this particular blog falls into such a category. It is a reminiscence, and was meant to be a shared reminiscence between members of one particular family. (Although many - most - have chosen not to participate in it, so it has become something else, other than what was intended.)
It is also a tribute, and in that sense, above all others, it is untraditional blogging. I write what I write with a particular audience in mind. And if what I do crosses into the realm of the creepy and "weird," then let's consider it a creative act, and nothing more, and nothing less.

Today Mom and I drove up Mt. Wilson, almost to the very top. We drove as far as we could drive. Unfortunately there was a big locked gate blocking the road to the very top, so we were not able to go through there and park in the place where we were supposed to meet Berto, Gabi and Gary. (None of us knew that the observatory is closed until April!) Not knowing where the big parking lot was, we just parked in the nearest parking lot we could find.

The mountain was awesome. I rarely get to see a sight like this. It was a stunningly clear day, beautiful and bright. The wind was cold up there on the mountain, but the scent of pines is the sweetest scent in the world.

We went to scatter your ashes, Grandpa, and to say a last farewell. This was Berto's thought, and for this I am grateful to him. We did not scatter all of your ashes into the wind because of the mix-up. But still, we gave you a nice moment.

Mom and I drove until we found a perfect vantage point where we released some of the ashes. The dust blew into the wind and over the treetops. We said, “Goodbye, Dad,” and “Goodbye, Grandpa.”

Here is the view where we let your ashes disappear and become part of the universe.

(Click on the images to see larger size.)

And here are just a few more images that I am posting in order to share the experience we had on the mountain. Mom and I took these pictures while we waited and while we looked around for Gabi, Gary and Berto. It was sad to us that we could not meet up with them like we wanted to. Mom was in a sad mood on the drive home, down the mountain. I don't want you to think that we were entirely cheerful. However, we felt that we would make the best of it and enjoy the gorgeous views and natural wonders. Regarding locations, the two close-ups of Mom and me were taken near where we had parked our car, by the Red Box Picnic Area... And the others were taken when we were driving and looking around - we stopped at a trailhead where we explored a little, while we talked to other hikers about the trails leading up the mountain.

I couldn't help but enjoy the wonders of the sight I was seeing, and appreciate the day. Grandpa, I believe that you would have appreciated it too... As Mom and I discussed today, we both feel that we inherited your tendency to be in a good mood, most of the time, naturally!

We love you. We miss you. No matter how many days or months (or years) pass since you left us, we will be thinking of you!!!

Fotos de Marta

I am posting some more photos that I received from Marta, by way of Gerda T. (sorry for the delay in posting).
These are fantastic, thank you so much for sharing them! (Also if you click on the image you can see a bigger one, I think.)
Love, Felicia