Growing Up in New Zealand

Mom’s life included some truly major transformations. She was born and grew up in New Zealand, an incredibly beautiful country on the other side of the world from the United States. It was the setting for the stunning scenery in the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. Mom’s birthplace was Dunedin, which is the second-largest city in New Zealand’s South Island.

Her father was a mining engineer. As a result, her parents lived and worked in many parts of the world. Mom and her two sisters lived in some difficult mining locations while growing up. They also attended a girls’ boarding school for a few years while their parents were out of the country working.

me, cousins Murray and Geoff, brother Andy, aunts Lesley and Evelyn

After graduating from the University of Otago in Dunedin, she took a teaching position in Auckland, which is New Zealand’s largest city. She taught home sciences (roughly equivalent to home economics in the U.S.) in a high school there.

Meeting an American

In 1956, at the tender age of 23, she married my father, Robert Wanamaker Seaton, in a small ceremony in Auckland. Dad grew up in Manhattan, Kansas. His father was the Dean of Engineering at Kansas State University there.

So how did a guy from Kansas and a young lady from New Zealand happen to meet and marry? It’s actually a pretty romantic story.

My dad worked for the U.S. Naval Oceanographic Office. He was part of a project to map the magnetic fields around the South Pole. The plane had some mechanical problems, so the team had to stay over in Auckland longer than they expected.

The story that my mother always told was that a friend invited her to a party. Her friend wanted to introduce Mom to a man she knew. Mom reluctantly agreed to go to the party. She didn’t actually care that much for the man she was supposed to meet, but she also met my father. To say the least, they hit it off.

Six weeks later, they were married. They stayed together for just over 50 years. Mom passed away nine days after their 50th wedding anniversary.

I have a letter that my dad wrote to his mother in Kansas a couple of days after he and Mom were married. Here are some excerpts from what he said:

We were married six weeks to the day after we met, and these were a busy and magic time. She had never given a thought to living in the U.S., and long-standing reluctance about such a kind of life had to be overcome.

Wilma is a talented young lady. She is not only a very fine seamstress, bur also a good and imaginative cook. She and I like the same things in the details of living [...] She has similar likes to mine in cultural and intellectual pursuits, and so you can see why I was so enthusiastic to leave behind the old imagined independence of bachelorhood.

At first, they didn’t get to spend too much time together. My dad had to continue on with his mission. It took a while before my mom could finally join him in the States. They had to get all the immigration paperwork sorted out.

Life in a New Country

Mon’s world was turned completely upside down. She went to Kansas first, where my grandmother lived. The flat wheat fields of Kansas were completely different from the mountains and ocean around her homeland. My dad liked to say that she had no idea the rest of the world didn’t look like New Zealand. It was quite a shock to her.

Eventually, they moved to Washington, DC, where my father’s office was located. He continued working for the Naval Oceanographic Office until he retired. I was born and lived there until I moved to Arizona in 2008. They both enjoyed living in the DC area.

However, my father’s office moved to the Mississippi Gulf Coast in the late 1970’s, so they moved there. That was another major culture shock for both of them. The laid-back attitudes of the Gulf Coast were completely different from the hectic, high-powered world of DC. It took some getting used to, but eventually they settled in and built a beautiful house right on the beach. (It was on a lot that Hurricane Camille had cleared. Later, after they had sold it, Hurricane Katrina destroyed my parents’ house.)

On the Road

My parents, my brother Andrew, and I used to go on family camping trips for most of our vacations when I was growing up. We traveled around the country visiting parks, national forests, and other wondrous places. After my father retired, my parents decided to live “on the road” as full-time RV’ers. For several years, they lived in a trailer that they pulled behind a truck around the country. They loved seeing different places and meeting new people.
Eventually, they found a small “park model” mobile home (about half the size of a traditional mobile home) in an RV park in Benson, Arizona. Although they still spent most of their time out on the road, they liked to stay there when they wanted a break. Benson is east of Tucson in southern Arizona, at the turnoff for Tombstone from I-10. It’s a fairly small town and completely different from New Zealand, DC, and the Gulf Coast.

My father developed Parkinson’s disease, and my mother took care of him up until the end. She took over the driving and all the heavy work of traveling with the trailer. They were dedicated to it and continued as long as they possibly could.

Cancer

My mother used to say that they would be fine as long as she continued to stay healthy. We always thought that she would outlive Dad by several years. Unfortunately, she developed colorectal cancer in 2006 at the age of 73. Although she was in pain, she didn’t get the colonoscopy her doctor suggested until it was too late. I was still living in DC and believed her assurances that it was just a minor problem. I wish I had known and done something about it.

After she was finally diagnosed, I made several trips to Arizona to visit with them and help out as much as I could. I moved them to Tucson, where they still stayed in their beloved trailer.

Mom underwent chemotherapy and radiation. It was a roller-coaster of successes, set-backs, and uncertainties. We were always waiting for the results of the “next test.” Throughout it all, she kept up an amazing sense of humor and courage. She also continued to do most of the work to take care of my father, who was almost completely bed-ridden.

For a short while, it looked like she had conquered the cancer, but it came back. Finally, her oncologist in Tucson said the only option was major surgery. My brother, husband, and I all came to Tucson to be with her and Dad. We found the best nursing home there for him that we could find. I was at the hospital when my mom had several organs removed.

After a few weeks in the hospital, she came to the same nursing home as my dad to recuperate. They were together for Thanksgiving and their 50th anniversary, although neither was very joyous. We were all there for that, too.

I flew home, thinking that the situation was improving. It was tough knowing I was 2000 miles away, but I had taken a lot of time off and had to get back to work. Several days later, she got a blood infection from a line inserted in her arm at the hospital for medications. Her doctor kept assuring me that they would get it under control, but it advanced extremely rapidly. My brother, who lives in Portland, Oregon, and I raced back but were unable to get back there until it was too late. One of my father’s sisters, who lived part-time in Tucson, was with her when she passed away. Aunt Mardie and her husband Wally were a huge help during all of this, spending lots of time with both Mom and Dad.

Back in New Zealand

Mom’s two sisters and one of my cousins came from New Zealand to Arizona for my mother’s funeral. My brother, father, husband, Aunt Mardie, Uncle Wally, and some close family friends also attended. We had a small, quiet ceremony in which we all told stories about her life. She had always continued to be the “fine seamstress” and “imaginative cook” that my dad had written about. We displayed several examples of her handiwork, including clothes with incredible free-hand embroidery she had recently made, intricately knitted sweaters and other items, and delicate lace she had made by tatting.

My aunts and cousin took my mother’s ashes back to New Zealand and buried them in a Dunedin cemetery on a high hilltop overlooking the ocean. My father, brother, and I felt it was fitting to return Mom to the place she first called home and bury her with her parents. Andrew (my brother) was there along with many friends and family members.

My father only lived for another seven months after my mother’s death, passing away one week before his 81st birthday. He stayed in the critical care section of the nursing home because of his Parkinson’s. Andrew was able to work remotely and spent quite a lot of time in Tucson with Dad, for which I’m very grateful. Dad also developed colon cancer, which is listed as his cause of death, but I think he died mostly from a broken heart.

Andrew, my husband, and I took my father’s ashes to Dunedin a few months later. We wanted Mom and Dad to be together in the country where they had met and fallen in love 50 years earlier.

I had been to New Zealand twice before, once when I was in second grade and once about 15 years before when my parents were also visiting. She showed me many of the places she had grown up in.

Although parts of this trip were very sad, it was also good to stay with family and tour the country again. I enjoyed showing it to Doug, my husband. It helped me to appreciate and understand more about the many changes my mom had gone through in her life.

Growing up with parents who were willing to take big risks certainly had an impact on my willingness to take risks as well. Transforming your life is hard work, and it takes dedication. They both showed me that.

Robyn

map photo credit: timmenzies

Oh my gosh! How did that happen? I hardly knew what to do. Think! Breathe!

OK, now what? First, leave a comment on her blog to tell her how flabbergasted I am. Second, finally write and publish my first real blog post — something other than “Hello World!” and “This is a test comment.”

Try breathing again. Go back and read it one more time.

During WordCamp Phoenix and PodCampAZ, I shared with my audience that I was too excited to just be “this close” to the one man who completely changed my life when it came to writing, actually helping me become a professional writer. Robyn Seaton stepped up to my challenge and connected me with the master himself. This is just one more amazing reason why I love WordPress and WordCamps!

In the next few days, I hope to connect with Alan Dean Foster and tell him thank you and hug him. Hopefully, I’ll also get time to interview him.

via Dreams Can Come True: Meeting Alan Dean Foster « Lorelle on WordPress.

A Wonderful Weekend

Back up. How did I get here?

I had a wonderful weekend attending two events here in Phoenix. I spent all day Friday at WordCamp – well worth taking a day off from work for. On Saturday and Sunday, I went to the “relevant media unconference” known as podcampaz, where I attended lots of sessions on lots of topics. I wish I could have cloned myself and gone to more.

Both events were filled with the nicest and most helpful people I could imagine. It was like being invited to a big family gathering, except there weren’t any obnoxious cousins there to spoil the fun.

The opening speaker at WordCamp was Lorelle VanFossen. I’ve been reading her WordPress blog WordPress blog for a while. I loved her presentation. She was fun, full of information, and obviously very happy to spread the word about the wonder that is WordPress.

After her talk, I bought a copy of Lorelle’s Blogging Tips book. She signed it and wrote “Blog your passion.” That struck home. It’s really a wonderful book with a lot of good advice, and I know I’ll refer to it often.

I attended a couple of sessions at podcampaz that Lorelle spoke at. In one, called WordPress 201, we talked about planning your blog (Who am I blogging for? What approach am I taking? What am I going to write about?). When talking about organizing a blog using categories and tags, she used Star Trek as an example subject for a blog, something most people can relate to.

On a Quest

WordPress 201 was so good that a few of us stayed on, missing the next session altogether. Since we were talking about Star Trek, someone mentioned Alan Dean Foster’s name (he’s written several books based on Star Trek movies). Lorelle’s whole face and body lit up, and she told us how she would do anything to meet him someday. Did any of us know him and could introduce her? “He lives near Tucson, only a couple of hours away,” someone said. “You should look him up.”

“Oh, no. He travels all over the world, so I’m sure he’s not there. Besides I have to go to Prescott Valley for a few days to visit family. That’s north of Phoenix, in the other direction.”

Her passion and excitement were infectious. I decided to take it on as a challenge. Could I get this to happen somehow? At the after-event party, I prodded Lorelle to look for him. No go. We tweeted about it on Twitter the next day. Still no go.

I decided to go on a quest. The Internet is a wonderful thing. Google “Alan Dean Foster.” Hey, he has a website! Check out his bio there. Hey, he lives in Prescott! That’s right down the road from Prescott Valley, where Lorelle was going. Hey, Lorelle!

She mails me back, I might not be able to stand being THAT close to him and not meet him, but then, he’s rarely home as he travels the world. I really dream of one day getting on a plane or pausing to chat with a stranger and finding out I’m talking to Alan Dean Foster. What I would give….maybe some day.

More research. Check out his monthly update page. October 2 – He’s competing in Las Vegas at a powerlifting event in mid-October. (How cool is that?) November 1 – He seems to be on a roll with a couple of his latest books, and he posted photos from his “last” journey. I’ll bet he’s at home! His e-mail address is right on the front page of his website. Hey, Lorelle, you should e-mail him!

No response. She must be busy visiting with her family.

I can’t let this go now. The Universe couldn’t possibly have aligned itself any better. It would be unforgivable to ignore it. It’s late at night, and I tend to get a little more reckless then. I know it’s much easier to recommend someone else than yourself. So…

I write to Alan Dean Foster myself and tell him about her. I’m not going to tell her I did that, in case it doesn’t work out. I hope she won’t be mad at me.

Success!

The next morning I get a mail back from him saying he will contact her. I see a tweet from her saying that he had mailed her. They’re actually going to meet on Saturday. I’m sure you can read the rest of her story on her blog.

I think I’m almost as excited for her as she is. I feel all warm and fuzzy knowing that I played a part in fulfilling someone’s dream. As it turns out, it wasn’t all that hard to do after all. It makes me believe that maybe some of my own dreams can come true someday, too.

Thanks, Lorelle, for finally pushing me all the way into the world of blogging. I’m going to do my best to follow in your footsteps and “blog my passion.”

P.S. I learned how to use Press This to start this post. Another small step in my blogging journey.

girl photo by Tetsumo on flickr
map photo by KimmerKC on flickr