Today I must stop my semi-sarcastic rantings and ravings to pay a serious and special tribute to a good friend. Her name was June Meyers and she passed away on January 21, 2012. She was 88.
I first met this wonderful woman in 1994 when I started attending Sonoma State University. She was the grandmother of my(then) new friend Scott Catania. Over the course of several years, Scott and I had a regular habit of going to June's house to do laundry on Sunday afternoons. During football season Scott would be glued to the TV watching the 49ers and I'd be working on some crossword while the laundry was going. June would sit there enjoying our company. Her other grandson Aaron lived there for a bit, but he got married soon after and moved out, so June was pretty lonely. Toward dinnertime, we'd order out for Chinese or steaks or even Mexican food sometimes. It was a wonderful tradition.
As time went on, Scott and I were given a sweet deal. In exchange for a rent-free existence, we would be June's drivers when she'd need to go on errands. During this period from 1998 to 2001, since Scott worked full time and I substitute taught or worked temp jobs, I was more often than not the driver, and it was fine with me. June was wonderful company and Santa Rosa was a pleasant town to drive around in.
We had another fringe benefit to this arrangement. June and her friend Alice were patrons of the local entertainment venue The Luther Burbank Center, and we were frequently their drivers or male escorts. All sorts of acts came through there. We saw Bill Cosby twice, as well as Loretta Lynn and Bob Newhart. Newhart was special because we all got to go backstage and get our pictures taken with the man. That picture remains in a frame in my home, and whenever we watch The Bob Newhart Show, I can proudly say I met him.
Unfortunately, years of living alone without daily human contact had an effect on June. We'd often find her talking to herself or claiming that people were trying to break into her house. At first we took it seriously, but soon figured it in was all in June's imagination. As I was not a relative, it was a bit easier for me to cater to what June needed or thought she needed. She was not really that demanding and, as I said, she was pleasant company.
In 2001, she was trying to shoo away a neighbor cat from her garage and fell off the steps, shattering her arm. It was decided she couldn't safely live by herself anymore, and after some recuperation time in a hospital, she went into a small assisted care house. She was still nearby for us to visit and take her to lunch often. Meanwhile Scott and I took turns spending some nights in the house to keep it looking occupied. A month later, we just moved into the house. We'd gone through the house before this and found stockpiles of old bills, money, meds, and other items. Her room had been a virtual fortress for years. Now it was Scott's room. I took another bedroom and when I left almost a year later for Las Vegas, I took the bed with me.
In the years after I moved, June's mental capabilities diminished until she recognized nobody in her family anymore. I'd visited her once or twice when I came into town but eventually those visits went away since she wouldn't recognize me either. The woman I'd known as June was gone. She was still a living, breathing body, but the wonderfully quirky personality was gone forever.
June, if you have Internet in heaven, I hope you are in happiness and peace. I also hope you are having a good reunion with the love of your life Lew, as well as your long-in-Heaven son Bob and your wonderful daughter-in-law Del. We have missed you for a long time and hope in some way you'll drop us a few signs that you're happy up there. Rest in peace, my friend.
