Jill's Stories

On November 3, 2012 I came to see Everet whom had just turned one year old.  I traveled from Knoxville, Tennessee to San Francisco, California to witness this awesome event…and delighted to see that Everet had just learned how to walk!  I flew into Everet’s home town by jet…the sun followed me there.  The weather that weekend was a remarkable 70 to 80 degrees.  Everywhere that we walked we  had a view of the ocean or the downtown area.  Remarkable.  (to be continued)

I do remember how wonderful my time with Everet was on his first birthday. My Sister, Janie accompanied me to celebrate.  I was so amazed to see the friends of Jaime and Mike arrive for this fun evening.  They brought the “little people”, their children to the delight of all.  Presents were everywhere, and Everet opened each one by tearing off the paper and going in for the next one.  We were treated to a chocolate cake baked by Jaime and Everet dove right into it.

Everet and I sat on the floor each day after that day and played with his toys and read books together.  We ate lunch at the table and enjoyed the tasty chili made by his Mom.  I was able to watch him practice getting the spoonfuls from bowl to mouth; quite an achievement for a one-year-old.  We had homemade cornbread that was oh so good!

Each afternoon we took a long stroller push by me, ride by Everet.  Up the hills, down the hills, fitness to the max! Oh the healthy San Francisco!  I do remember the day of my leaving that beautiful city and the precious grandson, Everet.  As the plane lifted above the bay, I looked down at the landscape and realized quite quickly, how fast the time goes by and how dear the inhabitants of that abundantly gorgeous corner of our country are to many, many families all over the land.  Lucky, are the few who can walk the hilly land of SF and feel the warm breeze upon their faces, looking at the art and speak with friendly folks who know the value of natural resources.  I know this is a huge assumption on my part, but I did witness neatly stacked clothing and usable items on several street corners, available to those who needed a little help or whom realized abundance is frugality in tow.

I began this story on that November day in 2012…and now two years later I am able to complete this piece.  Thoughts of loving hearts know no time.  I shall return.

It’s the right time to share the story that changed the life of a lady in Cincinnati, Ohio.  The lady is my Mother, Mary Pfau.  I have waited many years to write this story.  I will begin by saying that on one afternoon Mrs. Hillary Clinton  held a fuscia envelope in her hand. She was seated on a plane when she read the contents of the letter.  I had asked her if there was a way that she could help my Mom to stay in her own home instead of going to a nursing home for care.  My Dad had just been diagnosed with lung cancer, and my Mom was diagnosed with a spinal tumor at the same time. Her physician told her that if she wanted to continue caring for my Dad, she must have this tumor removed.  She complied. She had surgery. She never walked unassisted again.

The situation  became serious and my Dad unfortunately passed after 18 months.  Our family arranged to have a caregiver there every day to assist our mother.  Finances were exhausted.  At this time, I heard of a program in Ohio called Passport; this was an avenue of hope for the elderly to remain in their homes instead of the option of nursing home care.  I wrote the letter to Mrs. Clinton. Her secretary had a box of letters that she was reviewing while on the flight with Mrs. Clinton. I had typed my request on hot pink stationary, folded and placed it in a fuchsia colored envelope.  As an aside to this, I remembered that my English teacher in high school told me that if one wanted the prose to be noticed, write it on strikingly brightly colored paper.  He was correct.  The lady that told me of this scenario, told me that my letter stood out among the other hundreds of letters. Mrs. Clinton read about our Mother’s situation, had someone call the Counsel on Aging in Cincinnati, where our Mom lived, and expedited the process of Home Health aides coming each day to provide care for our Mom. This continued for 14 years at no cost to our Mom.  How unbelievable is that?  Mrs. Clinton never asked for notoriety for this act of superlative kindness.  There was a distinct message of just doing the right thing for someone who needed her help.  I lived in Knoxville, Tennessee at this time and the local newspaper, the News Sentinel published a story about Hillary Clinton’s gesture of kindness and precise problem solving.  Thank you, Hillary Clinton.  It’s your turn for superlatives.