Remembering Cynthia Liddell Ebaugh

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

a letter from Betty to Cindy 12/1/10

Dear Cindy,

Poor communicator that I am, I am writing now because I realize that at our age and with our various disabilities, we may not have the opportunity to meet in person again, though I surely hope I am wrong.

You have been strongly on my mind, of course, since I have been witness to all your worldly possessions now in Paula’s garage. It was difficult to witness and reminds me that I don’t want to leave some things unsaid.

Your generosity to us throughout the years and to Aune and Ingrid when they were young, is much appreciated. You have always been generous, not just with things and time, but you have an incredible generosity of spirit… so thanks for that.

You have been an example to us all, and though I will never live up to your example, I have seen you live the fullest of lives and face difficulties with the greatest resiliency and good humor. I have always described you as someone who could be kicked out of the car alone in the desert and would make a life.

Not only that, but you are beautiful, vivacious, creative and a kind and dutiful caretaker of family and friends.

Some time ago, I started a poem about you that (though I have completed over a hundred) remains unfinished. I have not abandoned it, however and hope someday to be up to the task. If I live to do it, I’ll send you a copy.

Love and miss you,

Betty

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

a letter from Joe Wehrer

Knowing the state of Cindy’s health, I wrote her a letter (how dated you say?) in late December and mailed it promptly. When we were told by Yoko that she hadn’t received that letter or one written even earlier by Betty we were perplexed and disappointed to have failed to reach her. We now surmise that we affixed US first class stamps rather than the amount for International mail. Someday those letters may find their way back marked returned for insufficient postage.

Dec 20 2010

Dear Cindy,

After spending hours rummaging thru your collected works in Paula’s garage and making off with some of your plaques, I realized that it might be the closest I will come to my dear old friend.

My tight little garden already has a connection with your mirrored apartment and roof from Toronto days in that the surrounding walls are hung with discarded mirrors and shards of mirrors found in the free boxes on our SF streets. They will be joined by your plaques on the first pleasant day after our winter storms give up the ghost. We get pleasure from seeing bits of our garden foliage, Bougainvillea, Meyer Lemon, Bamboo, Succulents, Lilies and weed infested ground cover reflected from large and small fragments of mirror. Rising from near the path is an eight-foot tall replica of an old farm wind pump that is there because George, you remember George, insisted that it was just what we needed. The two house walls that enclose the space have been recently painted to show green hills below blue skies with floating clouds more or less like what we might see if the buildings didn’t exist. The neighbors have no idea what their walls look like. When the plaques go up, it will be our Cindy Shrine. Oh yes, there will be a NO SMOKING sign.

You have always been one of the dear few that I both love and admire. There are few who are so generous in giving of themselves wholeheartedly, and non judgmentally.

Few who are as resourceful and ready to tackle new situations whether by intent or by

trick of fate. I love your infectious good humor and readiness to add pleasure upon pleasure. I have often told stories of your adventures to new friends and invariably they are told to illustrate the ways of a well-spent life

I take pleasure in recalling good times together on the golf course playing for beer and Jim Beam, in museum and university gyms and auditoriums dispensing art education, at the Falcon listening to Bob James, dancing with Robert Sheff, and mostly just hanging out and talk, talk, talking. It has been great knowing you. You have always given more than you have been given and you deserve all the best.

a letter from Betty Johnson

Hello to all,

Yesterday I received a call from Yoko, Cindy's dear friend for many years, dating back to Toronto days. As you may know, Cindy had moved to Victoria, B.C. with Yoko who became her caretaker. Sadly, or happily, considering Cindy's considerable suffering, she died peacefully in her sleep between midnight (when Yoko last checked on her) and early morning Tues. Jan. 4th. Yoko said she looked peaceful. Yoko asked me to inform her friends of her passing.

I had sent her a letter in an attempt to say goodbye and express my appreciation for her life. Joe followed up with one of his own a couple of weeks later but Yoko thought she had not received them. I hope she will find them when she goes through Cindy's papers, but Yoko was pretty sure Cindy would have mentioned that she had received a letter from me.

Cindy had made all the necessary arrangements for cremation and everything else. There will be no memorial since her entire family was wiped out in the year previous to her illness. We will have to memorialize her individually. I have struggled with a poem about Cindy for several years off and on. I intend to have another go at it.

Cindy was a remarkable person and will remain vivid to all of us who knew her.

In sadness,
Betty

Monday, January 10, 2011

Plaster of Paris

I was in awe of Cindy's style - she was the queen of accessories! She had an amazing collection of bracelets, rings and necklaces. I guess the cigarette was her most constant accessory. She always seemed so feminine and confident.

Loved her store "Plaster of Paris" where I got my shimmery, purple, bell bottoms that were a constant for me for a long time.

I'll miss her spirit - she rose to every challenge.