Dearest Frieda

Man have I been going through blog withdrawal!! Having little access to the internet and even less time available to blog over the last 10 days has been frustrating! Be prepared for many posts over the next few days as I have a lot to blog about.

First, I'll explain the absence. Last Wednesday morning, May 30th, we received a phone call from my mother around 7 AM central time informing Julie and I that my Aunt had passed away the night before. Getting the news set in motion a flurry of activity and travel as I headed to Toledo to be with family Wednesday and Thursday. I'll get more into the story of my Aunt below. I flew back into town late Thursday night, and a mere 6+ hours later Julie and I were back at the airport ready to fly out to Tahoe with the cycle team. Last night, we landed back at MSP around 9 PM, an hour late. During this time I had very limited if any access to the internet, and yet so much has happened over the last 10 days.

Regarding my Aunt, her name was Frieda Louise Kalis and she was born on December 16, 1928, in Detroit, Michigan. She was my mother's sister and last remaining sibling, as my Uncle Walter had died of cancer over 30 years ago.

Frieda was a sweet and wonderfully caring woman who never married. As my mom recalls, Frieda dropped out of high school so she could work to support the family when my grandfather had passed away at an all-to-young age. She worked various jobs over the years and was one of the most giving people you would ever meet, not a mean bone anywhere in her body.

Unfortunately, Aunt Frieda battled mental illness for nearly her entire adult life. She had many more struggles than she deserved but it never diminished her spirit or her faith. There was always a smile, a kind word, or a good belly laugh. One of the things that she struggled with over the last 10 years was remembering details about Julie and me, that we were married, whether or not we had kids, and in what state we lived. I joked with my mom that now that she's in heaven she'll realize that we live in Minnesota, not California, and that we have two dogs, and no children.

Over the last dozen years or so she lived in a Lutheran home just a few short miles from mom's house. The people who worked at the home absolutely loved Frieda. Quite often she would take the clothes she had hanging in her closet, drape them over her walker, and stroll from her room down to the front door of the home where she would wait for her boyfriend to pick her up. The boyfriend's name I seem to remember most is "Jim".

Sometimes "Jim" was from Detroit, sometimes he was a prince in Saudi Arabia. Whoever he was, she was certain he'd be coming that day to pick her up and they would be together. After a short time waiting in the lobby a nurse would come to Frieda and tell her that "Jim" had called and said he'd come get her tomorrow. She'd be fine with that and they'd head back to her room. The next day the process may begin again, or not. She was lovably quirky, a true original.

One thing was always certain with Frieda - she always put a smile on your face when you saw her. She was an incredibly loving woman, compassionate, caring and completely unselfish. She will be missed. God's speed, Frieda.

Love, Julie and Patrick, in Minnesota.