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I have known Ann since kindergarten (I'm 46 now). She and my dad, Dan Scheans, taught at UVM in those years. Our Burlington Sunday ritual was to buy fresh, chewy bagels (she always had lox on hers) and eat them at Ann's while lying on the floor reading the Sunday NY Times (or being read the articles she thought we should hear). As a child, Ann's travels fascinated me, as did the unusual souvenirs she brought us. My sisters and I would stand near by as she opened her suitcase, sniffing the exotic aroma, the suspense palpable. We were never disappointed. The trips around the world she took as a single woman had the strongest female role model impact on me that I can think of. We have maintained close contact over the years exchanging visits between Portland and Honolulu. My sister Carol Scheans and my daughter, Libby Martin had just stayed with Ann mid June. Libby and Ann had a mind melding or two (Ann loved to get into young women's minds) and now Libby is heartbroken. Ann last visited a couple of years ago and fell in love with our budgie, Sprite (see photo). She would feed her bits of baby's breath from her haku (sp?) lei and let her sip tastes of her wine. We emailed each other frequently (some times daily) as Ann's appreciation of technology grew. Although she wrote regularly before computers, her handwriting was often illegible. (I was called upon to decipher it by other family members). Many newspaper articles arrived with no clue as to their significance, the annotation unreadable. She also managed to slur typewritten words (having sent an email or two after a martini or two), but the connection was always there. There is a void in my life. I sent her Mother's Day cards and olives stuffed with garlic, she sent me correspondence of my father's and Hawaiian baby names. (I am an Anthropologist's daughter working as a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner). What will I do without her? How are Koko and Pinky Punky (or Pinky- Punky-not- a- rabbit, as Libby would call her) surviving without her? Arrggh, life can be so hard. My family is planning to celebrate Ann's life at a local Hawaiian restaurant, wearing muu-muu's and happy shirts; a martini will mark her place at the table. RIP Ann... Pat Scheans Portland, Oregon
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