Before Caroline and Martin moved to Koenigstein near Frankfurt in Germany, members of the family celebrated Caroline’s receiving her MBA from the University of Connecticut. Nick and I met my sister, Rosy, in New York. We agreed to meet at 9 a.m. in a hotel lobby. As I came out of the elevator, Rosy was there walking toward me. All it took was one letter telling her the name of the hotel and the time. No cell phone yet!
We had a great time visiting the Hamptons, Boston, the JFK Presidential Library, and ending up in Hartford. It was the only time I spent a vacation with Rosy. We got along surprisingly well during that week-long trip through New England. Of course Martin was there and Mary joined us for the graduation ceremony.
In January 1997, I was attending a business lunch in Calistoga, Napa Valley. I stepped outside to take a call from Germany. “Vous êtes Grand Père!” announced Martin excitedly. My first grand child is born, Anton! A few months later, now a grandfather, I went to visit them. Marie-Helene and her family came as well for a sort of family reunion, as we all became part of an international family.
The following year, Melanie, living in Poughkeepsie near Hyde Park in New York State, brought home Zachery. A few months later, when I went there for a visit, so happy to hold this baby, I was remembering the days when I first became a father. New strong bonds were creeping in.
After college Valerie, came back to Santa Rosa to train as a registered nurse, staying at the Austin Way house with her mom. She met Rob through common friends and they married at Camp Rose, a romantic venue in Sebastopol. Another fun wedding!
That same year I remarried around Christmas time, a marriage that lasted a few years.
From time to time, I advised local landowners in planting new vineyards, which was exciting work, from developing water sources to choosing varieties that were best suited for the site. I still drive by some of properties in the Carneros district of Sonoma County, proud of my work and enjoying fond memories. I forged some lifelong friendships, not only with the owners but also with the men doing the work, all immigrants from Mexico. The Sangiacomo family became very special to me; they appreciated my advice over the years as we tackled big projects together.
In the late 1990s, after a biopsy on a small tumor on her neck, Mary was diagnosed with lymphoma. She managed to keep up with her teaching duties as a ESL specialist, but in January 2004, when local doctors could not keep the illness at bay any longer, she was advised to go to Seattle for advanced experimental treatments. Our children took turns being with her as she became weaker and weaker. She wanted to see her grandchildren one more time. Martin brought Anton and Maxim to Seattle from Japan; Caroline stayed behind in Japan and gave birth to Alexandra one month later. I flew to Seattle with Zachery and Logan. She saw her four grandchildren one more time and two days later she passed, not even sixty years old. The funeral mass, officiated by her priest friends, took place at St. Rose Church. Our friend Diana talked and Nick gave his mother a beautiful, heart-felt eulogy. I was so proud of him! She was laid to rest next to her dad in Los Angeles.
A couple of years later, I had a bench installed in Mary’s memory at Triangle Park near the Austin Way family home, where our children played when they were small. It was also the site of Fourth of July celebrations with fireworks provided by a neighbor we often called “Crazy Jerry,” who one year managed to set a tree on fire. When we dedicated the bench, one of the neighbors came out recalling the time Nick overplayed a baseball and broke a window in his house. Wonderful memories!
At that time, I thought it was important to keep the family together. All sixteen of us spent Christmas 2005 in France. The weather was colder than usual, with sub-freezing temperatures all the time we were there. Jack, only a few months old, spent his outdoor time inside his dad’s overcoat with only his nose showing. Michel convinced a restaurant to stay open on Christmas Day. We were all there, uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces, about thirty-five of us, including Caroline’s family from Japan, Marie-Helene’s family from Germany and all of us from California. I was very pleased and proud of the reunion. A very international family, they say I lead the way. In keeping everyone connected? Yes!
The summer when Jack was an infant, we often gathered at my house, enjoying the backyard and pool. Caroline usually came for several weeks. Valerie and baby Jack were often there also. After work, Rob, naturally, wanted to hold his son. Sometimes when I asked, “Can I hold Jack?” Rob would answer, “But I have not held him much today.” I’d offer to give him a twenty dollar bill for a turn to hold him, which became a family joke.
I visited the Bouffards in Japan and enjoyed every minute of it. The boys were going to an American school, where only English was spoken, around the corner from their apartment building. Martin spoke only French to them. The three children were bilingual literally from birth. I more and more enjoyed being a grandfather; even the simple act of walking to a Tokyo convenience store with the boys gave me great pleasure.
