Earlier this month, we received an announcement in the mail. The man who had paid for my step-daughter’s education at Seattle University and her first year at Bastyr University, had died.
He was a well-to-do eastside businessman, who decided to reinvest some of his money into helping people make more of their lives. Somehow, he became aware of Kjersti’s promise and so, he covered her SU tuition. It was a very generous and noble thing to do.
So, when the announcement came from his widow and we learned of a memorial service at the Bear Creek Country Club on April 18th, my wife felt a strong calling to attend that service. I would go along for support. We read in the program sent to us that Tim Eyman was going to be the main speaker. By the sounds of it, it was going to be quite the gathering of the who’s who of area conservatives.
The morning came, Kjersti was unable to attend because of teaching a class, but Victoria and I headed out to Woodinville. We were running behind, so I picked up the pace as best I could. We still arrived there a few minutes after noon, hopped out of the car and dashed up towards the clubhouse.
Nothing. No signs of where the memorial was being held. In the main dining hall, staff was setting up for a wedding reception. The head of catering was busy and said that he would get to us in a few minutes, which went even longer. It was then I said, “I’ll run out to the car and re-read the program.”
I got to the car, read the date and location carefully again. Yep, April 18th. Bear Creek Country Club, check. Oh, wait. The important detail we had failed to notice on the program—April 18th, 2014.
Yes, on the one-year anniversary of his passing, his widow had sent the funeral notice to us. Probably taking care of loose ends, thinking Victoria and Kjersti would want to see it and most likely wondering why they hadn’t been there a year ago.
For the record, we were there–exactly one year after the service.
As for being late to events, I now have a new personal best and a feeling that record might just stand for a while.