DiAnne

I just got off the phone from talking to my high school bff, Anna.  Anna called to tell me that her mother had died.  I was shocked to hear the news.  I knew DiAnne had never taken care of herself, but I also figured that her ornery nature would keep her alive forever.  Anna was there at the end of her life and said it was peaceful. 

After I hung up I started thinking about DiAnne.  I have to chuckle a little to myself as I type only her first name.  As Anna's peer, I was NEVER allowed to call her by her first name.  Instead, I was to always refer to her as 'Mrs. Conrad'.  She explained to me early on that she was not MY friend, by my friend's mother.  I respected this, although I always found it a little odd.  My Mother HATED to be called 'Mrs. Crosno' by my friends.  She always insisted on a first name basis, saying that when she heard 'Mrs. Crosno' it made her cringe a bit thinking she was being confused with her mother-in-law, THE Mrs. Crosno.

DiAnne was an interesting woman.  In her later years she became a recluse and very rarely, if ever, left her home.  Her daughters would bring her anything she needed.  She died in the same house that I had spent so many hours in during my high school years.  Most of the time in Anna's room, which was the only place in the house that was truly clean.  Or outside.  We spent a LOT of time outside.  When temperatures allowed, we loved to sleep outside under the stars.  The house is in a rural area, with a small pond in the back and large willow trees that rustle slightly in the breeze.  If I close my eyes, I can still smell the lawn and hear the trees and Anna's horses talking in the distance.  Oh and the old turkey, pecking and scratching and warbling.

Before retiring, DiAnne nearly worked herself to death.  She worked long hours at an apple industry job.  I think she was a fruit broker, although I honestly can't remember her title.  I do know that she would leave early in the mornings and would return exahusted at the end of the day.  She would enter the house, change into a long zipped robe, lay down on the couch and crack into her pack of Pall Malls.  She would lay on that couch, watching tv, chain smoking her cancer sticks, and would only get up to fix herself what she referred to as a 'Pepsi Plus'.  This was my first real time exposure to someone who ingested alcohol on a regular basis.  Generally, she would fix her first Pepsi Plus of the evening and after that, Anna would be called on to refill.  I know you are wondering what is a Pepsi Plus?  You take a can of Pepsi, open it, dump out a significant portion and then refill the can with Black Velvet.  mmmmmmmm...NOT.

Mrs. Conrad was quite colorful, especially after she downed a few Pepsi Pluses.  For some reason she liked me.  I was about the only one of Anna's friends that was allowed in the house on a regular basis.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe because I never talked back, or always greeted her as Mrs. Conrad.  I obeyed her rules even though some seemed strange to me.  One in particular, we were never allowed to drink the soda pop that was in the house, that was her stash. 

On Friday nights, I was often there and we would get ready together before going to football games or other activities.  I will NEVER forget what she used to say when we would emerge, ready to head out.

'You girls look (or smell) like whores going to war!' said with raspy, somewhat slurred speech. 

Anna, would always 'oh mom', and off we would go.  The first time she did it I was shocked.  You have to remember:  a) my parents NEVER drank, b) my mother would NEVER use such language, whenever my mom would get REALLY upset and try to use colorful language or curse words, she would never use them properly--it was really quite hillarious, although she never saw the humor in it when we would correct her verbiage and c) my mother would never lay around in her bathrobe in front of my friends.  To this day, Anna and I still chuckle when we remember the 'whores going to war' exclamation.  Surprisingly it didn't emotionally scar us!  We found it hysterical.

The last time I saw DiAnne was when I went back to Yakima for my 20th high school reunion.  She still had that contagious cackle.  The years had not been good to her and Anna cringed when she realized her Mom was greeting us without her teeth in.  It didn't bother me, it was refreshing in a strange way.  She was comfortable with who she was and didn't care what anyone thought of how she looked or how she lived.  While many wouldn't understand how she lived her life, I for one am glad that I had just a small glimpse of her life.  I gained a different perspective from that relationship.  It wasn't pretty on many levels, but I always knew exactly what she was thinking and where I stood with her, and for a teenage girl, that is always appreciated.