Family Reunion in Texas (Texas)

I love going to the annual Kieschnick Family Reunions and I love going to Texas to celebrate that. But I must also admit to what many Texans (including some of my relatives) may consider a set of mortal sins. There is stuff going on in Texas that I hate. I hate the idea of arming the Texas National Guard to protect it from an invasion by the USA. I hate the reality of everyone insisting that it’s important to carry guns to school, church and family picnics. I hate it that too many Texans think sexual orientation is a choice which must be stopped. I hate it when I experience (at best) paternalism for Blacks and downright denigration of Hispanics. And if any of my Texas relatives or friends have gotten past this paragraph and have not deleted this blog and inserted a two word expletive in its place then I am ready to proceed and tell you why I love Texas.

On my recent flight to Austin we had not preceded very far east of El Paso before I began to enjoy the beauty of that vast and varied state. Texas had wonderful spring rains and the fields were unusually green for late July. The hills were alive with lush green trees. Herefords and Holsteins roamed the fields. Massive rolls of hay were strewn in the vast fields. The few visible clouds added just the right touch to a beautiful landscape. The feeling that I have when looking across or driving in the rolling green hills of Texas brings me to bliss.

When my sister Mimi welcomes me into her house with her beautiful slight Texas drawl and the temperature of the house is just right and the refrigerator is filled with cold beer and there is a bottle of Scotch nearby what could be better!

In the morning I join a couple of my California and Connecticut kids and some of their family for breakfast. I get upset when my wait for the table runs to 30 minutes. And then the waitress comes and it’s true joy. Her Texas accent flows from her sweet and accepting face. She offers us all the options we might want with unusual graciousness. Then she brings the just baked biscuits, the cream gravy and the strong black coffee. I could stay here all day.

In the evening we go to the first of a series of feasts. The back yard is as immense as it is inviting. The beer is on tap for everyone. The pork butt bar-b-cue is so wonderful I think it can’t get any better until I add just a bit more of that bar-b-cue sauce and I check whether or not I am already in heaven.

The style of the Pitching Washers game has changed a bit but there is room for all from ages 8 to 88-and from then on the Super Bowl could not be more competitive but it is all in good fun

My granddaughter has come from California to experience Texas and she gets the full treatment. The first gentleman with whom we converse at the first party is a former rodeo competitor and tells about bucking broncos and calf roping. The next day she goes to buy her western straw hat and the salesman discovers she is from California and within minutes figures out that she is here for the Kieschnick and tells her he is a housemate of a person from the Kieschnick clan. He gets just the right hat for her!

The next few days I continue to be immersed in some of that good stuff that is essentially Texan: marvelous chicken-fried steak, freshly picked ripe peaches, crisp pecan pie, fried okra, five or even seven layered dip. And I visit an ancient smoke house where a generation ago at least 7 deer a year were smoked, dried and preserved to provide meat for an entire year.

I drive by the old cotton gins. Brother-in law Raymond’s longhorn cattle come to the edge of the fence to greet us, and the country western tune on the radio blares “Beautiful, Beautiful Texas the land where the bluebonnets grow. We are proud of our grandfathers who fought at the Alamo “

As I walk down the airport corridor for my return flight to California I take one more look at all those U. of Texas Longhorn caps, shirts, etc., hear one more “Howdy” from a Stetson wearing exec and I head into the plane thinking, “Sure hope we come back to Texas next year for another Kieschnick Reunion.”

Family Reunion in Texas (Family)

 I have just returned from attending my 24th Annual Kieschnick Family Reunion. This is a gathering of the clan related to my six sisters, one living brother, one deceased brother and me. This year we numbered 108 in attendance.

One evening with a Shiner Bock beer in hand I just sat off to the side and observed and reflected upon this assemblage.

I was struck by the fact we all got along and were comfortable speaking with each other and challenging each other in golf, Texas 42 (a game played with dominoes) and Pitching Washers (a Texas based competition now spreading throughout the world). There is much that unites us: our deep love, respect and admiration for our parents, Oscar and Lina Doering Kieschnick. We are mostly people of faith. We share family values of integrity, hard work, frugal life styles, service to community and personal responsibility. I learned all this anew at this reunion and I am grateful.

Within our common background and many shared values we are diverse. As I reflected upon just some of the vocations of those gathered the list quickly grew very long. In our midst we have teachers, pastors, business owners and executives, ranchers, farmers, psychologists, professors, counselors, secretaries, attorneys, medical doctors, opticians, real estate agents, postal workers, social workers, and lots of oil related work like managing oil flow, repairing oil rigs, designing new ways to repair supply lines, managing oil leases etc. etc.

Our economic situations range from getting by on Social Security to multi-millionaires.  Yet when we gather those differences do not tear us apart

We first generation sibs all sprang from Mom and Dad in Williamson Country, Texas. Now I mentally run through the people at this reunion. The places of birth include China, Hong Kong Taiwan, Spain, Jamaica, and Russia. Languages now spoken by Kieschnick family members include German, English, Russian, Mandarin, Spanish, Jamaican Patois, Cantonese, French, Italian and Portuguese.

As I look at my relatives I recall how many of them have come to my aid in my time of need. They helped me through school. They loaned me their vehicles. The helped me with sex education. They modeled faith and trust. When my wife Jane flew home from Hong Kong in a coma they made sure the ambulance was waiting at the airport. When my two sons and I were in Tiananmen Square and Mao’s army moved in they prayed for us. When one or more of us showed different stages of Alzheimer’s they empathized,. When our country needed to respond to Pearl Harbor they enlisted. When son David died way too young they came to bring comfort and support.

Enough already! I got down to the dirty business of calculating expenses and figured that over the years Jane and I have invested some $50,000.00 to attend and host these 24 reunions. And I have decided it was worth every penny. 

Closure and Moving On

It is now more than three months since our son David died. The literature says, “It’s time for closure and moving on.” That might be good advice. Yet something about those words does not ring true to me. I want to remember and I also want to move on, but I will move on aware that my life has a new reality. I have changed. I want to “move on” but as a changed person. That is what I am trying to do.

But first there are some elements to the closure that I want to always remember. I want to be grateful for the many letters, notes, cards, emails and memorial gifts that help me recall the best of David. So many stories of him reaching out to those looked down upon or ignored by others. The story from a Community Center he started when AIDS was a bad word not to be mentioned in polite company. This Center now serves some thousand clients  a day. The letter from Finland  informing me that more than 3000 copies of his “Home for Christmas” article had been distributed. The old newspaper clipping we discovered in which teen-agers and their parents wrote letters to the editor in affirmation of his work on the streets of Glen Ellyn, IL on behalf of young people who were losing  their way. A couple pastors even sent copies of sermons they preached built around recollections of David’s faith, positive attitude and advocacy for the persecuted. (and I try to forget that in the midst of this there were  and are others claiming the name Christian who call for the death and eternal damnation for people like David.)

So  I think of all this as I seek closure.

And then comes another flood of memories; Family. Dave’s sibs have been incredible, both in supporting him in his last months and in dealing with all that comes after a death. They have divided the tasks. Peggy is CEO responsible for selling the house, car, etc.Tim is dealing with all those medical bills which will be coming in for another year. John deals with the finances associated with credit cards, insurance  proceeds et sim, Liz worked on all the Celebration of Life issues around caterer, tarps for the patio n etc.etc. And they are doing this all without any sibling (or parental ) acrimony.

Family extends also to my birth family, with special appreciation for the support also demonstrated by the attendance here for the last rituals. They came from Texas. They made their own arrangements for accommodations. They spoke lovingly and emotionally at the ceremonies. They took care of “the elderly” among the group.

All of this marvelous family harmony and support stands in strong contrast to what I have unfortunately seen in others who deal with these matters with great disagreements, arguments and even bitterness,

Anyone who has deatl with taking care of post-death arrangements knows there is pain involved in things like  conducting an estate sale, taking care of the cremains, disposing of personal items like clothes and favorite arr objects.

In the midst of this has been the care of 7 members of one Afghan family which just arrived in the USA escaping the Taliban who had already killed their father and elder brother. David had been providing housing and other assistance and now other sources of support need to be identified.

I realize that I am certainly not alone in all this. Thousands around the world do this every hour. I have the special advantage of a spouse who is with me all the way sharing not only the tasks  but also the emotions.

And now I move on, determined to live each day as fully as possible, to put people first, to have my house in order and to confidently trust the One who walks beside me every day, now and forever.

A Remembrance of My Son - David Kieschnick, Sept. 14, 1952-Feb. 14, 2015

David Kieschnick, Sept. 14, 1952 to Feb. 14, 2015

A Remembrance of My Son

The writer of Ecclesiastes had it right: “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.”

A time to be born. It was a great time for David, our first, to be born. His was a much longed for arrival. While he was being delivered around 3:00 a.m. I was sound asleep in the waiting room. People chided me for my seeming lack of concern. But I reply that his Mother Jane and even David never were dependent on me. From his birth Dave was strong, self-reliant, capable, showing up on time. “Dad, I can handle it.”

A time to die. It’s hard to admit that 62 years of age is a time to die. For David it was. In a long personal conversation with me right after his oncologist told him, “Six months” Dave said, “Dad, I’m ready. I trust my God. I have no spouse or children dependent on me. I’ve accomplished my significant goals. I’ve made a difference. I’ve had a good life. “It’s a time to die.”

As that horrific cancer ate up first his jaw, then his cheeks and the descended into his throat and ascended into his brain sending excruciating pain along every cell along the way, the time came for hospice at home, massive pain killing drugs, always unbelievable support from his sibs and then final prayers and tearful goodbyes. It was a time to die.

A time to mourn and a time to dance. Of course, we mourn (with hope). Already I have moments of “Oh, I must talk to David about this.” Or “I’ve got to call Dave to see if he has time for us to have a beer together”. So I mourn.

And I recall the time to dance. David knew how to dance and have fun. His parties (especially hat parties – he kept 39 of those hats right inside his door), his love of food, his travels to the rivers of Europe with his sister, his singing, attending the theater for music and drama, his pottery and those who joined him there. Yes, David knew there was a time to dance.

A time to keep silent and a time to speak. Sometimes it was tough for David to keep silent, when honest disclosure would have brought more pain to him that he could bear.

But he also knew there was a time to speak. So he spoke for those outside the “norm”, the poor, the disenfranchised, the refugee, the alienated.

A time for war – and a time for peace. Yes, David fought his wars, for the cause of persons of all sexual orientation, for those who had trouble finding God in the “organized church”, against incompetence at work. And he fought his cancer with vegan and non-lactose diets, with chemo and radiation, with acupuncture and hyperbaric, with enhanced food supplements, with cancer support groups and writing seminars – and above all a desire to live and to make a difference.

And in the end, a time for peace. A time to rest from his wars, his pain, his weakened body and a time for peace with himself, with his family, with his God, with eternity.

“For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven”.

Son David At Peace

Our eldest son David about whom I have been posting blogs died peacefully, surrounded by family on Saturday morning, Feb. 14. He is at rest. See below for his bio:

DAVE KIESCHNICK OBITUARY

Childhood

David Allan Kieschnick was born on Sept. 14, 1952 in Tracy, California, the first born of Mel and Jane Kieschnick. He was baptized at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Tracy. After living briefly in Glendale California, he moved to Hong Kong with his parents at the age of four.

In Hong Kong he lived a happy ten years exploring neighborhoods where few foreign children ever roamed. Soon after settling in Kowloon, Hong Kong he was enrolled in a Chinese-only kindergarten. Following kindergarten, Dave attended Kowloon Junior and King George V schools where he learned the Queen’s English, Latin, and a unique combination of British/American/Chinese culture (“Three cheers—and one for the tiger!”). On his thirteenth birthday his family (by then he had two sisters and two brothers) returned to the United States, where he graduated from Huron High School in Ann Arbor, Michigan with a National Merit Finalist honor and then from Concordia Teachers College, Chicago, where he served as student body president at the height of the turbulent 60’s.

Career

In the early 70’s Dave served as Director of Christian Education for Hyde Park Lutheran Church,  a radical church community operating out of “The Mansion,” (which is now the Chicago home of the Obama family.) He also worked on the streets of Glen Ellen, Illinois, helping troubled teens. Then Dave surprised us all when he made a dramatic career shift to become Director of Training for Evans Furs of Chicago, where he immersed himself in the finer points of high fashion. After Evans, Dave founded “Off-Site, Inc.,” his own HR and computer consulting agency. Finally, in 2007 Dave moved to San Diego to be near his aging parents, continuing to support small businesses with his unique combination of technical expertise and a rare ability to translate between techies and regular people.

LGBTQ Advocacy & Support

Dave had a lifelong passion for social justice, and continually gave voice to the disenfranchised.  An early leader and fearless advocate in the gay rights movement, he helped pave the way for a generation of youth able to grow up fully embracing who they were. Dave courageously came out of the closet, frequently standing in front of audiences as the first out-of-the-closet gay man they had ever met.

aDave was a founder of Lutherans Concerned-Chicago, the leading advocacy and support group for the LGBTQ community in the Lutheran church. At a time when the only places for LGBTQ people to find each other were bars and bathhouses, Dave helped create safe places for people to meet, worship, socialize, and support each other. Dave was President of the founding Board of Directors of Gay Horizons (now the “Center on Halstead”), the Midwest's largest LGBTQ social service agency.  Dave wrote and spoke extensively about grace and inclusion and was a leader of the Maywood House Church which met for worship and fellowship for more than 30 years.

At the height of the AIDS crisis in the U.S., Dave traveled to many parts of the country, providing comfort to many who would otherwise have died alone.  He sponsored and supported persons seeking political asylum from Communist China, provided sanctuary for Afghan refugees, and challenged Americans to live up to the ideals on which our country was founded.

Lifestyle

A consummate host and gourmet cook, Dave relished good wine and fine cuisine, and celebrated life with finesse and style. He sure knew how to throw a party! Dave made many, many people feel welcome who didn’t feel welcome anywhere else.  He loved to travel internationally, was fascinated by history and culture, and seemingly remembered everything he ever read or learned.

Dave loved music, theater and film. He had an eye for beauty whether in fine art, a relic from some exotic place, the colors of an insect’s wings, or a discarded treasure scavenged from a Chicago alley. He didn’t just appreciate art; he made it. Dave was a storyteller extraordinaire and an eloquent writer. He was a gifted potter who combined his aesthetic sensibilities with great personal discipline to create many beautiful things.

Dave was a courageous voice for the oppressed, adamantly refusing to accept injustice. And most of all, Dave was a man with a huge, compassionate heart who gave shelter to wounded and weary hearts. Even now, he continues to give us all strength for the journey.

Family

While in Chicago Dave lived in a committed relationship with Doug Wilmore for more than 30 years. He was at the center of a large and extended LGBTQ family, many of whom had no other family. He was a loving and devoted son, a great brother and uncle, and a steadfast friend.

David died February 14, 2015 at his home in San Diego at the age of 62. He is survived by his parents, Mel and Jane Kieschnick, and by his siblings: Peggy Kieschnick (Phil Hatcher), Tim Kieschnick (Wendy Fiering), Elizabeth Kieschnick (Jim Flanders), John Kieschnick (Regina Llamas) and his nephews and nieces: Christina Hatcher (Ariel O’Sharenko), John Hatcher, Anza Fiering, Jon Flanders, Ryan Flanders, Maria Flanders, Antonio Kieschnick, Clara Kieschnick and a community of friends both here and around the world. 

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