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4A • February 2, 2018 • Seaside Signal • seasidesignal.com SignalViewpoints HEAVEN FORBID, ASSISTED LIVING! The tsunami that wasn’t L A popular fixture in the community, Marion Blake and her daughter Mary, the retired director of Sunset Empire Park and Recreation District, share their Seaside home. Marion will be 100 years old this year and a big celebra- tion is planned. “Marion Blake was an avid golfer, before age caught up with her,” Chelsea Gorrow wrote in a 2014 Daily Astorian profile. “She now uses a cane with four feet to get around. But that’s the only visible sign that she’s 96 years old. The petite and fit woman wears glittery nail polish, stylish white-framed glasses, pink lipstick and gold jewelry, including a beautiful bangle bracelet and fash- ionable rings. Her daughter shared that Marion Blake weighs the same as she did in college.” Four years later, all still holds true. We caught up with the Blakes at their Seaside home, alongside canine friends Ruby and Sunshine. ♦ ♦ ♦ ast week I woke up at my usual 7-something to learn I’d narrowly escaped death by sleeping through a tsunami, sort of. An earthquake in the waters off Alaska, created a tsnumai threat affecting the entire west coast. Mr. Sax, who had been up for hours, delivered this news as I started the coffee. “I guess we slept through the alarm,” I said. “And that’s weird because we’re both light sleepers.” VIEW FROM A short while THE PORCH later, I stopped at EVE MARX By The Way in Gearhart, a coffee shop I frequent. There’s a Stam- mtisch table there too; gathered around it, everyone was talking about the tsunami that wasn’t. I detected an air of excite- ment. So little happens in Gear- hart that a tsunami, even one that wasn’t, is big news, at least for a couple of hours. So what would it “I slept through be like if there was it,” I said. a tsunami warning Later that day, Gearhart’s Mayor alarm and we Matty Brown posted slept through it, I on his Facebook page a message from asked my spouse. the city government regarding the tsunami He shrugged and alert that wasn’t. The said, ‘I guess message reiterated we’d be dead.’ that while emergen- cy protocols were I was strangely enacted and call lists readied, it was satisfied by this determined there was answer. Truth no credible threat to be told, I’m less the area. Seaside and Gearhart’s warning concerned about sirens are connected; surviving a Seaside emergency managers after deter- tsunami than I am mining there was no danger, decided not to the aftermath. sound the alarms. A local novelist I know IRL (that’s techno-speak for “in real life”) posted on her Facebook page that the national warning advisory awakened her at 2 a.m. to say a tsunami was coming. Her thread was crammed with comments from far-flung friends and fans saying they were worried. I saw, when I finally looked at my phone, I had a few messages. It felt lame to respond to these heartfelt entreaties of concern saying, “I slept through it.” So what would it be like if there was a tsunami warning alarm and we slept through it, I asked my spouse. He shrugged and said, “I guess we’d be dead.” I was strangely satisfied by this answer. Truth be told, I’m less concerned about surviving a tsunami than I am the aftermath. I thought about bolting the house in driving rain, possibly clad in pajamas, which I would have to wear for days or weeks. I imagined navigating mudslides, huge logs, thousands of pounds of debris, wondering where I’d go to the bathroom, no lattes. I hate camping. Deprived of hot water for even 24 hours turns me into a witch. If the alarm goes off in the middle of the night, I said to my spouse, I might just stay in bed. COLIN MURPHEY/EO MEDIA GROUP Marion Blake, right, recounts stories from her past about life in Seaside along with her daughter Mary. Q: When is your birthday? Marion: April 29. I’ll be 100 in two- and-a-half months. I was born in 1918 in Denver, Colorado. I was raised in Denver. My mother died when I was 13. And my father was a pharmacist. Actually, I had kind of a sad childhood, then I had a dynamite college career at Colorado State in Fort Collins. I married the big man on campus. Football, basketball and track. Q: You started a family? Marion: We married and had our first child in 1941. My husband was a veterinarian. He taught medicine and surgery at the University of Missouri, and then we moved to Phoenix where he had a small animal clinic. I worked in the practice with him as surgical as- sistant and girl Friday. I played golf and had a lovely time at the salt mine. Mary: My father’s father was also a veterinarian. Q: Did you have other children? Marion: I have three daughters. Two of them have gone to their happy hunting grounds. Very bad. Mary: I was the baby and I wouldn’t have changed that for love or money. Q: How did you get to Seaside? Mary: This was the house my moth- er and sister and her husband decided to live in together. Once my mother settled in here, my oldest sister wanted to be close. Everybody was pretty happy. Unfortunately my sister’s husband got cancer, then he survived that. My sister got cancer, and she didn’t (survive). Her husband died of a broken heart. Marion: I think I adjust to my circumstances. Two daughters and a husband gone. I’m super, super blessed to be living with my daughter. That’s what’s making my life so pleasant. Q: You’ve always had a great rela- tionship? Marion: Very good. Q: I don’t want to ask what is your secret … but what is your secret? Marion: The secret is good genes, red wine and dark chocolate. And I like a dry “martooni.” It’s good for partying. SEEN FROM SEASIDE R.J. MARX I’m still playing bridge four days a week. I play duplicate. I play at the Astoria Country Club, at the Bob Chisholm Community Center once a week and twice a week in Astoria at the senior center. It’s fun, but it’s very competitive. I have good partners. I watch a lot of TV. Q: What do you like? Marion: I watch Stephen Colbert. I am a night owl. I get in the sack and I watch until 1 a.m. Q: And you wake up when? Marion: I wake up at six and at seven. I don’t waste a lot of time sleep- ing too much. Mary: She does her stretches when she gets up. She’s very flexible. She was a swimmer and swings on the swings higher than anybody else. Marion: I’m a big sports fan. Q: What’s your favorite sport? Marion: Football. Q: Pro or college? Marion: Pro. Q: What’s your favorite team? Marion: Well, the Seahawks. Mary: And also the Denver Broncos. We were big fans when John Elway was the quarterback. Q: Who’s your favorite president? Marion: Oh, the one now! (rolls eyes.) Mary: When Hillary was there it was really quite a moment to be able to vote for a woman president. She (Mar- ion) follows that really closely. Marion: I like Rachel Maddow. I like her coverage. Q: Are there others in town who are your age? Marion: I’m always the oldest one in the crowd. Q: Any regrets? “ COLIN MURPHEY/EO MEDIA GROUP One of Marion Blake’s pets sits obediently at her feet at her home in Seaside. Marion: No regrets over the years. Accent the positive. Q: What do you have planned for your birthday? Mary: We are going to do a party out at the club. We did a big party for her on the 90th with a slide presenta- tion, so we were able to pull up some of the terrific pictures. Q: Any goals for the new year? Marion: Just play more bridge and kick butt. Q: Whose butt are you going to kick? The other bridge players? Marion: Oh yes, the opponents! Mary: I always knew she was going to be 100, so I asked her, “When are you thinking about passing?” She said: “Oh, I think I’m going to live forever.” I said, “Well, that’s very spiritual but what does that mean?” She said, “114, 117 — that would be OK.” She’s a real inspiration. Whenever anything comes up, she’s always eager to get into the car, go for a walk with Ruby — it’s amazing. And she didn’t want to go to assisted living. She said: “You know there are a lot of old people there.” Marion: Heaven forbid assisted living! The way I feel now, I have a lot of time ahead of me on this planet. Mary: She says: “I don’t mind a routine, but I hate a rut.” Hopes, fears greet conversation about death and dying Participants asked what they hope for when death approaches By Nancy McCarthy For Seaside Signal CANNON BEACH — Twenty-two friends and strangers gathered recently to have one of the most im- portant conversations of their lives. The topic: death. The guided discussion gave participants a way to express their feelings about the concept of dying, remember the death of someone they loved and talk about what they hoped for their loved ones and themselves at the time of their own deaths. “This discussion isn’t to solve any problems,” said Jenny Sasser, an education- al gerontologist who led the 90-minute exchange on Jan. 18. “We’re trying to have a conver- sation about what matters most to us when we reach our end.” Held at the Cannon Beach History Center and Museum, the program, “Talking About Dying,” was sponsored by Oregon Humanities through the Oregon Community Foun- dation. Although the conversa- tion started somewhat easily when Sasser asked the partici- pants to give a word or phrase that came to them when they thought about dying, the re- sponses turned more difficult after they broke into small groups to talk about their ex- periences and hopes. The words the participants used to describe their thoughts about dying ranged from fear to inevitability. “Wow!” said one member of the group. “Yikes!” said another. “Comfort, control, choice,” added a third person, and her neighbor added, “compas- sion.” PUBLISHER EDITOR Kari Borgen R.J. Marx ‘HOW WE APPROACH OUR DYING CAN BE A GIFT TO OTHERS. DYING IS NOT DISCONNECTED FROM LIVING. AT SOME POINT THERE IS AN END, AND IF WE LIVE FULLY TO THE END, IT IS A GIFT FOR OTHERS.’ Jenny Sasser educational gerontologist “It’s a fact of life,” someone else said. As they turned to their small groups, Sasser asked them to recall someone in their lives who had already died. How did they live toward their dying? “Not just how did they die, but how did they prepare for it?” Sasser asked. And then, she directed them to discuss their own experiences during their loved ones’ deaths. The consensus of one group’s members was that “none of us wanted to go to a nursing home,” and they didn’t want to suffer. “How a loved one dies but CIRCULATION MANAGER PRODUCTION MANAGER Jeremy Feldman John D. Bruijn ADVERTISING SALES SYSTEMS MANAGER Holly Larkins Carl Earl CLASSIFIED SALES Danielle Fisher STAFF WRITER Brenna Visser CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Skyler Archibald Rebecca Herren Katherine Lacaze Eve Marx Esther Moberg Jon Rahl also where they die is conse- quential,” Sasser said. While one person noted that “not having control (over how death should occur) can create fear and anger,” another person asked, “Can you really control yourself at the time?” Observing how a loved one dies “shapes our attitudes about our own dying,” Sasser said. “How we approach our dying can be a gift to others,” she add- ed. “Dying is not disconnected from living. At some point there is an end, and if we live fully to the end, it is a gift for others.” After the group went into their small groups for a second time, Sasser said she could hear laughter. The groups’ assign- ment was to discuss their hopes for their own deaths. “Notice I didn’t say your fears,” Sasser said. Talking about fears sets a different tone for the conversation, she added. The participants talked about the desire to control the way they die. They discussed the need to talk to their fam- ilies or friends early about medical preferences during the final days. One of the par- ticipants also discussed the need for family members to be willing to let go. Those who don’t have fam- ilies or close friends to discuss their dying wishes with could turn to a “death doula,” noted history center director Elaine Trucke, who participated in the conversation. Like a birth doula, who coaches a pregnant woman through the delivery of her baby, a death doula provides emotion- al support and acts an advocate for the person who is dying. Sasser suggested prepar- ing an advance directive that states treatment preferences. In addition, she said, it might be helpful to prepare a playlist that can be played at the end of life. “What would you like to hear even as you’re going out?” asked Sasser. Pets must also be consid- ered when making end-of-life preparations, she said. “Our web of relationships includes nonhuman beings,” Sasser added. Some plans that must be made — like what will happen to pets — may be pragmatic, but those plans are based on feelings, on what the person wants, Sasser said. She urged the participants to continue thinking about what they hoped for at the time of their deaths. “Ask what that means, what is doable and what still needs to be put into place, and what conversation you still must have,” she said. 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