A Compilation of Nola’s Faults—A Husband’s Perspective Generous to a fault—Nola was always too willing to give of her time and attention for family and friends. She often had trouble pursuing her own many interests and hobbies because of the distracting demands and needs of others; their concerns always came first and took priority over her own. If she had been less accommodating, she might have completed more of her favorite projects in life--but she will best be remembered for what she actually did for others. Loved her family too much—She was selfless, particularly in her dedication to all of us. As a nurse, she took care of everyone. During the time I knew her, she ministered the health needs of her grandparents, my grandmother, her parents, her brother, her children, their children and spouses, my father and his still-living 100 year-old girl friend--even during her own final months of life. She put all their needs ahead of her own without complaint. At times, the children undoubtedly felt that their needs were not being met because she would willingly listen to the troubles, both real and frivolous, of people outside the family. I think she always had a broader, more encompassing and inclusive view of family than we did. Too many passions--She loved the color RED, Christmas, Rosemary Clooney, Bells, Clocks & Pocket Watches (although she was indifferent to accuracy), Hearts, Flashing Gewgaws, the color RED, Waterfalls, Fountains, The Wizard of Oz, Music boxes & Snow Globes, Thrift Store Bargains, Birds (at a distance), the color RED, and too many more to mention. Did I mention the color RED? She was particularly passionate about a particular RED Kleenex Box that only became available one Christmas season. She stocked up on them and jealously safe-guarded them so that she could continue to refill them from other, less-worthy boxes. For an extended period of time in the past we had a friend (Susan) living with us while attending school. In order to repay us in some small way while we were absent from home, Susan tidied up the pantry and threw away a few unnecessary empty RED Kleenex boxes. Boy, was she surprised by the uncharacteristically angry response from Nola upon discovery of this favor! I think Nola mourned the loss of those boxes to the end of her life, even though several of them remained, still being refilled on a regular basis. Too forgiving—I never knew her to hold a grudge for any slight or rebuff that she may have received, even at times when others would think it fully justified. She sometimes tamed my righteous indignation at some real or imaginary injury by helping me see the larger picture and the possible explanation of another’s actions that I had not considered. Overlooked faults in others--She tried never to expect more from people than they seemed able to accomplish, despite their good intentions. This unique ability allowed her to remain friends with many people who sometimes, or even often, failed to follow through with what they planned or agreed to do. While most of us might shy away from such unreliable behavior, she just tried to adjust her expectations for the future and moved on without rancor or disappointment. She always tried to judge people by their capabilities rather than their expressed and sometimes unrealistic self-assessments. Didn’t expect perfection—As a young man I was a perfectionist by nature and inclination, and she scoffed at my efforts to achieve absolutes. When she first met me, I had a college English essay that was six months overdue because I wanted it to be exceptional. When I finally completed it and got an A, she said that I should have gotten an F for taking so long on what was, after all, only a college class assignment. Over the years, she taught me that to seek perfection in myself or others was actually inhuman. We are, by nature, imperfect and need to operate within those flawed boundaries. Thought praise more important than criticism--She believed that praise was particularly important in raising children. I can’t say that she (or any parent, for that matter) was always able to overlook the fierce feuding of her children long enough to point out the acuity of their repartee or their pugilistic dexterity. But she always held that up as a goal for herself, and anyone else who might have asked. And she believed the same principle applied equally to adults. She encouraged me and others who had the misfortune of being supervisors to go out of our way to find employee actions to praise rather than to find faults; to write performance evaluations that emphasized positive acts rather than mistakes. The more extravagantly you praise someone, she felt, the more likely they will aspire to measure up to that praise. Tried to make everyone get along—Whether refereeing the children or calming squabbling co-workers, neighbors or friends, she always sought to make peace with quiet words or humor. She had the annoying habit of trying to get you to understand the other guy’s perspective. And if she could get the attention of the disputants, she often succeeded in restoring harmony without having to take sides. Didn’t care a thing about politics or current events--She was ostensibly a Democrat by registration, but through most of our married life, I doubt whether she could have named the Vice President, congress members, state officials or any but the most annoying members of the Davis City Council. And yet it never seemed to affect her ability to interact intelligently with others on matters that she cared about. The messy details were something for others to worry about and she never troubled herself to bother with them. Didn’t worry about money—She paid absolutely no attention to our financial worth--or that of anyone else, for that matter. She left it to me to write the checks, balance the check book, fret over the taxes and somehow make the money last through the month. Although generous, she was never extravagant in her spending. She had an eye for bargains and would caution me to be frugal whenever I sought to treat her to some luxury. She made practical and thoughtful use of money, but there was never any concern about getting more or holding on to what we had. During her childhood, she saw firsthand that preoccupation with wealth and its corrosive power had damaged the lives of several of her mother’s relatives, and she sought to avoid that danger in our family. Casual and flamboyant in her dress—She didn’t ever worry about formal dress, proper clothing etiquette or sophisticated fashion. Quite simply, she dressed to please herself--and me. She often dressed with flair and pizzazz, but most often with an eye toward comfort. There were certain dresses that just screamed NOLA! And you can be sure they were never beige nor shit brindle (a favorite description, inherited from her mother). And there were a few RED items as well, needless to say. Didn’t care about what anyone else thought—Well, that probably misstates her real attitude, because she was always mindful of how her words might affect someone else’s feelings. Rather, she was unconcerned about the opinions of others as they might reflect on what she did or said. Even as a young child, when her mother would fret about what the neighbors might say or think in reaction to some behavior, her response was always: Who cares! She felt one’s behavior should not be guided or limited by the real or supposed opinions of others. As she frequently observed, most people worry more about what other people are thinking about them, rather than what others are doing or saying. Expressed confidence when others were unsure—I never knew anyone with such unassuming self-confidence. It was just a fixed part of her worldview. She didn’t doubt or second guess her innate ability to take on anything she set her mind to do. So many times did I envy that trait, especially when I agonized over a decision or proposed course of action. And I readily admit how often I borrowed her confidence and innate good sense to make the right or, at least, the needed decision. Her confidence was occasionally unfounded, but not often enough to even enumerate. Looked for the simplest path to completing a project—No matter how daunting a project or problem looked, she always took the most direct approach. When the fence started falling apart, as they all seem to do eventually, I fretted and stewed, weighed the options of repair versus replacement, hoped that the trees would be sufficient to keep it from falling, and ultimately did nothing. After all, what did I know about construction? I couldn’t even drive a nail straight. Tired of waiting for me to remedy the problem, Nola grabbed boards and nails and fixed the fence with the help of the neighbor woman whose husband was similarly paralyzed. I usually circled problems, sometimes endlessly; she always went to the heart of the issue. Didn’t pay any attention to the news—When we first met, Nola paid scant attention to the news--about the same as anyone else, I suppose. In fact, our first date was November 22, 1963—the day that J.F.K. was shot; so we checked on the news occasionally, but not a lot, that first full weekend we spent together. But we were both students and most of our time went to studying and getting to know each other our first few years together. And then, when the nightly news became an endless parade of protests and killing fields, her interest waned completely. Thereafter, we seldom ever watched the news; we didn’t seem to miss anything of consequence and happily avoided the pervasive sense of anxiety and unease that sensational news stories invariably generate in viewers. Similarly, her interest in newspapers was pretty much limited to local news--with one special exception. While it was still in print, she was an occasional but enthusiastic reader of the Weekly World News; she loved to read about the exploits of “Bat Boy Found in Cave,” Big Foot sightings and other oddities that the tabloid followed. She laughed hilariously about reports of alien abductions gone wrong and people who kept their dead relatives in the living room for years. One short article that she particularly enjoyed was entitled Six signs your doctor is an Alien. One tell-tale determinant, I remember, was: A doctor’s handwriting is usually quite sloppy. But aliens labor over their handwriting and the result is easy-to-read printing. Predictably, she took the list to work at the Student Health Center so the other staff could test for the signs. Not well informed on social gossip, political scandals, and sensational trials—Just as she avoided newspapers, she similarly took no interest in the peccadilloes of public personalities nor the horrendous or nefarious acts of others. She never watched a moment of the OJ saga and trial, nor ever concerned herself a whit about whether some president had sex or not with whatever her name was. Never grew up—In many ways Nola never lost her innocence and sense of wonder and playfulness. And yet, I would reckon that she was the most mature person I have ever known. She could seamlessly move back and forth among the roles of Adult to Parent to Child without difficulty or strain. And it was part of her endless charm and unpredictability that never failed to fascinate me and probably others as well. Preferred to shop at thrift stores—She had absolutely no interest in anything presumed to be upscale; whether it was Macys, Nordstrom or Neiman Marcus, none of them held any attraction for her. But she could spend four hours with her friend Helen combing the aisles of a single thrift store and be delighted with her finds. And the great motivation for such shopping was inevitably to find the perfect gift for someone else. Not that she didn’t shop for her own sake as well—the overflowing emporium that our house has become belies that. But, really, her greatest satisfaction was to put treasures into other people’s hands, even if they were prized items of her own. Preferred IHOP and Dennys to 4-Star restaurants—What can I say? She liked what she liked. Enough said! Didn’t stand on ceremony—She had no interest and even less patience with pompous events or people. She was never pretentious and could undermine that quality in others with mirth or indifference. I have to say that in my academic phase, when I aspired to a Career rather than a Job, she helped me to find what was truly important in life; because, at least as I envisioned it then, a Career came before Family. Thank goodness I had her to help me sort out my priorities—or else! Inattentive during movies—She couldn’t sit and watch a movie (she never watched FILMS) without doing something else (e.g., wrapping presents, putting together gift bags for co-workers, doing jig-saw puzzles). Worse yet: even though she paid scant attention to a movie, she always knew its final outcome—and would tell you so mid-movie. I’ve saved her Worst Fault for last—Countless times she embarrassed or disappointed well-meaning friends and startled unwary cooks alike by her emphatic and unhidden distaste for almost any seasoning. But worst of all: SHE REALLY, WITH A PASSION, HATED PEPPER!!! I miss her so. David Haggerty Reflections on the death of Nola, my beloved wife