Time and the Memorial — Part 7 — Revisited

With pride, strength, and beauty, I was honored to offer this beautiful eulogy in honor of VST. It was the hardest of things to do, but in my own way, I needed to say Good Bye in this public way. VST was a nickname given by my outrageously funny and wonderful God Mother, TJ. It made him blush when he found out what the letters stood for, and once that happened, it was too delicious of a name to abandon. His name is something I hold very dear and close, and for now, he will remain VST or Dr. H.

My Dr. H was a man for all seasons. Trustworthy and loyal, fun and loving. He touched lives wherever he went. “Don’t Worry, Be Happy!” was his theme song. He treasured every beautiful memory made with his family.

Born on July 15, 1954, he shared his happy childhood memories often. As a boy, he was an adventurous soul. In Kindergarten, he repeatedly fell from his bike cutting his sizable forehead several times. This resulted in wearing a helmet to Kindergarten, and earning the nickname “Crash”.

When VST was in 2nd grade, his family planted their roots in the countryside of Central California. He was brought up to love God and Country, and of course, Country Western Music. During our travels together, in excess of a million miles over almost 33 years, I learned to love so many songs that Terry had listened to as a child with his beloved Grandpa. Some of my favorite titles included “This Old House” and “Great Ball’s in Cow Town”, along with ” On The Wings of a Dove”. Through the years, his love of music grew, and soon he played bass guitar in a garage band with friends.

During these years, his family would often vacation on the Central Coast of California to escape the hot valley summers. He loved body surfing and fishing off the pier with his dad. Through the years, he never lost his love for the ocean, and we visited there often, our last trip being in November, 2019. One of this last wishes, spoken just days before he died, was that he wanted to return to the ocean just once more. Me, too, VST, me, too.

In the 8th grade, a coach realized that he would benefit from football as much as the high school team would benefit from having him. He fell in love with the sport and played on winning teams for four years. He was an immediate star, enjoying football and friends. He earned his Letterman’s jacket quickly and was a leader among the other players.

During his sophomore year, settled with friends and football, he was struggling with his German class. Fifty years ago, in 1970, he transferred into choir. Music AND girls!! Win! Win! It was there he met me, a lowly freshman. Our sweet and golden friendship grew until he graduated in 1972.

Although receiving requests to play football for many colleges, VST had other plans. He started his work career early in life doing odd jobs at the parts house where his dad worked. Being smart, strong, and gifted, he learned about mechanics early on. His super power of analytical thinking allowed him to fix anything after giving the situation thought. He bought his own car and loved having responsibilities and his own money.

VST married at 18, and at the age of 21, became the fathers of twins, a boy and a girl. In 1979, another daughter was born, completing his little family. His children were the light of his life. That never changed through the years and their days together made memories he cherished deeply.

During those years, VST became employed by a John Deere tractor dealership servicing the Central Valley. In 26 years, he rose from Field Mechanic to Service Manager, and then finally, to a trusted and valued Store Manager of a multi-million dollar business. He was known and respected nationally and internationally for his knowledge of all aspects of John Deere tractors. Before retiring, he won many awards and his name is legendary in the farming world of the central valley of California. He was the guy farmers wanted to deal with.

But, as life often does, things changed unexpectedly and quickly, VST was divorced. At 30 years old a new chapter opened and he enjoyed the freedom of new friends and opportunities. While devastated emotionally and financially, he turned to God for strength and moved towards his bright and promising future.

On September 5, 1987, VST was a bachelor with no thoughts of ever marrying again. He owned a brand new home and had settled in as a loving father, enjoying his children when they were together, be it camping or at the beach. He was a tall drink of water, handsome and full of himself.

Deciding to attend our high school class reunion, VST met up with me again. I, too, was devastated by divorce and quite happy in my own solitary life with my own two young sons. Things were about to change.

After a date, in which I burned the dinner while I babysat three active chidren, we both felt this could be something more than friendship. Familiar and safe. Our friendship from long before was alive and well. Eleven days later, he proposed and I said , “Yes!”

We exchanged vows on Janaury 23, 1988 and remained devoted to each other for 32 years. We were best friends, parents, lovers, business partners, confidants, and each other’s hired hand when we couldn’t afford real ones. We were dream makers and doers. To say we were soul mates doesn’t even begin to describe our love story.

As a step father, VST provided a stable, wonderful example to my two young sons. I could never thank him enough for helping me raise them. I can never thanks his three children enough for sharing their dad with us. The seven of us had special times while they were growing up. It was hard for outsiders to decide who belonged to whom. Just a mass of kids getting into the red VW Van to go on adventures.

When we met, VST had three college credits. From 1988-2001. he earned his Bachelor and Master’s degree, both with thesis required. He then became a Doctor of Psychology in Organizational Development in 2003. This was done while working 8-5, raising 5 kids, farming 40 acres of grapes (without hired help), and going to Hawaii or the Sacramento Delta whenever the whim struck us, which was often.

In 1990, we bought our beloved vintage Thompson Seedless vineyard. There, we raised our kids and made a lovely home for his parents to join us. Many nights throughout our 17 years on the ranch were spent enjoying “therapy” on their porch. The four of us were best friends and even better neighbors, only needing to run across the drive to borrow a cup of sugar, or a needed hug. During those days, VST and I could and did count on the kids to come help with the ranch work. He always said, “There’ll be time to sleep when we’re dead.” It became our mission statement.

VST was always the one to wait up for the boys to get home on date nights. He watched to make sure his flock was safe and loved. Farming provided our family with a wonderful life. Soon, the five kids were grown professionals, all on journeys of their own.

We had the dream life of which fairy tales are made. From beautiful children growing up strong, smart, and healthy, to farming grapes and shaking raisins. From sailing in the Pacific to mountain retreat renovations. From western sky sunsets over the vineyard to sipping tropical drinks in Waikiki, when we were the only lovers on the entire moonlit beach. From beautiful new family members welcomed through marriage to gorgeous grandchildren making us proud every day. Blessings showered upon us like spring rains. Steady and Abundant.

During his third career, VST worked in Social Services. For 11 years, he helped countless battered women, foster children, and abused children and elders. He loved his work and was held in high esteem throughout the state.

After retirement and a move to VC, a new adventure unfolded for us. A Street was a stunning and inviting place to enjoy family, friends, and each other. VST walked four miles a day for most of the time we lived there and was known for residents as the Bionic Cowboy, always sporting his heavy knee braces and sharp cowboy hat. He made countless friends throughout our time there with his smooth drawl and great wit.

VST became a Master Mason through the VC lodge and cherished his friendships, duties, and memories. He also became a Knight Templar.

VST’s brief, devastating illness brought an unthinkable reality to us, after three wonderful years of travel around the country as feral parents in our RV. Through our years together, either in our rig, by car, or by plane, we visited Hawaii, Colorado, Minnesota, Maryland, Louisiana, Missouri, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Texas, Wyoming, Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, Iowa, Tennessee, Arizona, Utah, Washington, DC, Kentucky, California, and Nevada. He finally found his real, true dog in Sir Oliver, Gentleman of Ashworth Hall, who grieves deeply when he catches a whiff of VST from an old possession while missing his frequent walks on the pier with his best bud.

In the last days of VST’s healthy life, we found our final home together. We were both excited to start a new chapter. But Cancer won.

In closing, let it be known that a name has been chosen for this, my final home. This home, chosen together, will now and forever be known as WINTERPAST, taken from the Bible, King Solomon, Chapter 2 — 10-14

My beloved said to me,

Arise my love, my beautiful one, and come away.

For behold, the winter is past;

The rain is over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth,

And the time of singing has come.

The voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The fig tree ripens its figs and the vines are in blossom;

They given forth fragrance.

Arise, my love, my beautiful one and come away.

Oh my dove, in the clefts of the rock in the crannies of the cliff,

Let me see your face, let me hear your voice,

For, your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

As I finished this eulogy, this yard, so lovingly created by people I never met, surrounded me with peace and a knowing heart that VST was safe now. It was done. It would be up to my children and grandchildren to finish with the last bit of the Memorial. Because, truly, more was not in me. They took over, and the celebration continued in the most beautiful way I could ever have imagined.