RIP: Kathryn Wages Douglass--take exquisite care

"Thursday, July 16, 2009

A memorial service for Kathryn Wages Douglass will be held at 5 p.m. at the Storey County Senior Center on Friday, July 17, 2009.

Pot luck finger food donations are requested.

Kathryn, 62, of Virginia City, passed away peacefully at her residence on Tuesday, June 30, 2009.

Kathryn was born on Feb. 1, 1947 in Fayetteville, Ark., to Olin and Roberta Wages, and was their only child.

She is survived by cousins Cindy Kaiser of Austin, Texas, and Renee DeRossitt of Memphis, Tenn., numerous friends in Virginia City, the United States and England, her much-loved cat, Whitbey, and former husband Larry Douglass.

Kathryn attended the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, and the University of Wisconsin, Madison, obtaining degrees in history, archival research and graphic design.

She and former husband Larry traveled extensively throughout Panama, Central America and Great Britain, including an archeological dig of an ancient Scottish site that was highly recognized in the field of archaeology.

Kathryn moved to Virginia City in 2001 from her home in Sacramento, after living in Leeds, England for three years.

While living in Virginia City, Kathryn served as the director of the Storey County Senior Center for four years, St. Mary’s in the Mountains museum guide, performed in several productions at the Gold Hill Hotel and Piper’s Opera House, and held several retail positions at various shops in town.

In addition to her cat, Whitbey, Kathryn had several interests including travel, books, movies, reading and music, and was ready to share her passions and interests with those that she knew.

She would always be there to help others, even at her own sacrifices. May she rest in peace."
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Kathryn was my pen pal for about 15 years and I only now heard about her death. I had been sending her small notes and cards (none were returned) and had started to worry keenly. She loved sending me and my cats Hallowe'en cards and stickers. So I did something I don't typically do with my pen pals: I googled her name and discovered that she is no more.

Some of my best and closest relationships are with pen pals--yet it is hard to know when they are in distress; when they need help; when they are incapacitated, and when there is no hope any longer of ever receiving a missive again. And what happened to Whitbey? Did somebody step in to take care of her? I am sure that Kathryn had a web of relationships via correspondence, but it's the nature of private correspondence that we rarely know who else was important, who else signified, with whom else to grieve and share stories and hope for solace.

As the day passes, I find myself inwardly keening with grief--I feel that one knows pen friends in many cases perhaps better than the actual population of one's life. They are the repository of confidences, secrets, fantasies. They can send sympathy, empathy, and compassion in palpable form. I think that there is a level of knowing that the written word can provide which one does not always get from the casual real-life meeting. In a good pen-friend relationship thoughts unfold; you present your autobiography as suits you; you don't worry about what you are wearing or how much your house/car/earrings cost.

It's true that a lot of pen-pal relationships just go "poof!" but I think that more of them work out than the real-life friendship. I think I have about 200 colleagues and perhaps might call two of them friends.

I grieve most deeply and sincerely for Kathryn; I cannot calculate how I will miss her. My personal geography has yet to adjust to this dynamic explosion carving out a huge gap.

And yet few people would recognize this sense of loss: we base our sympathies so often on proximity or kinship--a deeply feeling, thinking, witty, loving pen-friend should be near the top of the pantheon of important people in our lives.

At my age, the investment of some 15 years in getting to know somebody and to be known in return is unlikely to happen again. Time, life, and special people are never renewable.