Friday, July 16, 2021

Missing George

My father passed away after a very long struggle with Alzheimer's. His wife had a ready made obituary for the eventuality of his passing. My siblings decided it didn't capture who my father was. I was elected to write our version. I sat down and wrote it in a night, inspired by creating a counterpoint to the dry listing of his professional achievements. It was a cathartic writing exercise.


George Atherton Chaffee, Jr. died February 6, 2021 from complications of Alzheimer’s. Born in Fitchburg, Massachusetts, to Frances and George A. Chaffee, on May 27, 1938, he spent his formative years in Warwick, Massachusetts.  George attended Northfield Mount Herman and obtained his Engineering & Applied Physics AB degree from Harvard University. 

George worked in the insurance business all of his life, starting as an adjuster with Kemper Insurance in Boston in 1961. He became Deputy Commissioner of the State of Vermont Banking & Insurance Department in 1977, introducing landmark legislation in 1981, creating the Vermont Captive Insurance industry. He went on to support several Risk Insurance start-ups  including Vermont Insurance Management and  SINSER Management Services. He finished his career  as senior vice president of administration at Hickok & Boardman Insurance Agency.

These are the facts of his life and illustrate his ability to navigate conformity in order to succeed.  His best life was spent skirting norms, much like his tattoos hidden behind starched collars and cuffs, to follow his passions, which were legion.

As a young man in Warwick, George started a lifelong love affair with engines with his first car - a 1937 Ford with “Death Dealers” painted on the rear fender. His fellow “Death Dealers” Cope and Rick, or the Deadly Three, marauded through backroads of Warwick and Athol, one step ahead of the local posse. Cars gave way to a passion for motorcycles. Weekends were spent at the Loudon, NH scrambles or tinkering on his beloved Bultacos. Racing segued to touring- including a memorable trip around the Gaspe Peninsula with his friend Harold. His heart expanded to include flying - both planes and ultralights. He delighted in buzzing his summer camp in Maple Corner for the amusement of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, dropping notes in a bottle into Curtis Pond to be retrieved by his audience as he flew off. 

His curiosity and intelligence were boundless. He was a lover of books and film. As a committed Gemini, he learned to prepare astrological charts for family and friends. He built his own plane. He retained a childhood passion for country western music, gleaned through his open window as sounds from the Warwick Inn wafted in. He would talk to anyone in an effort to understand the human condition- including the backwoods folk slaughtering a pig on the side of a road in Tennessee. This parade was punctuated by his constant observation that “life is rich.”

Happiest traveling solo, George accommodated a few people. He had two wives - Reta, 1955- 1976; and LouAnn, 1984 - 2021 and multiple other women sprinkled throughout his time on earth and across the tri-state area. He begat five children with Reta despite not having a particular fondness for “twidgets”. These children found ways to irritate his well developed sense of order by moving his pencils carefully arranged by length, or generally creating noise. He found his own way to irritate them in return by asking them to “hold still for just one more” photo taken with his cherished Leica. It wasn’t until later in life that George began to appreciate the enormity of this Chaffee legacy, and the good and not-so-good proclivities he passed on to his brood. 

He is survived by his wife of 37 years, LouAnn Chaffee, his brother Rufus Chaffee, and five children from a first marriage to sixth-grade baseball team compatriot, Reta Matthews Chaffee MacGregor: Susan Chaffee Hall (Robert), Arlon Chaffee (Peg), Sarah Chaffee (John Hoyt), Reta Chaffee (Andy Cadorette), and Abigail Chaffee Pandelena (Paul), eight grandchildren, numerous great-grandchildren, and many nieces and nephews.

His children will be holding a remembrance this summer at the Warwick cemetery, in the town he considered home, and where his parents and sister Susan are buried. His self-selected stone is a bench that invites all to “come sit with me.”


Friday, November 25, 2011

Flaw #567

Thanksgiving is a day that gives you plenty of time for long discussions. Especially during the extended exercise of hand washing and drying all the china, silver, pots and pans. It is probably a little late in the game for me to be figuring out that the world is fraught with danger and intrigue but I finally came to that conclusion and shared it with one of my younger sisters in the midst of our dish washing.

I have a bad habit of being what I'd like to think is honest. I  talk about what I am thinking at any given moment. It is intended to be a dialogue with the conversee but it seems that most conversees see it as a pronouncement that is set in stone. My sister declared this "thinking out loud." People quickly jump from a pronouncement to drawing a line in the sand while I am still rolling thoughts around in my head......out loud.

The danger comes from thinking out loud with people who may not want to be a sounding board. Or the danger is ...not knowing when to shut up.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Cooking Disaster

So I have confirmed why I am only allowed to cook once a week. Yet another cooking disaster. It was really more of a buying disaster. I decided to try a new brand of gluten free pizza. Gluten free products are pretty mediocre at best... so you can just imagine the results. I do not recommend King Arthur brand gluten free pizza.The gold standard continues to be Bob's Red Mill. King Arthur came out more like a focaccia which is fine if that is what you are expecting....read more on unmet cooking expectations here.

While waiting for said leaden experience in baking to rise I had a chance to finish a review of the most recent biography on George Kennon. An interesting character during interesting times. Makes you start questioning the right of the masses to vote and rule our country. Note to self....buy biography and read...right after you have finished that biography on Copernicus.

Also had a chance to read about Margaret Sanger and the history of "family planning"more commonly known as birth control. We have come a long way but it is beginning to feel as if we are sliding backwards. Another note to self- those damn Europeans have it all over us Americans when it comes to pizza and social policy.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Facing Off

Typical, everyday Sarah being unglamorous, unfashionable, unsophisticated and uninteresting.

I started doing Facebook a few years ago in an effort to learn about all the free marketing tools at my disposal....along with blogging, twitter and e-newsletters. In tandem I created personal and business accounts. It has proved to be a great marketing tool for my business. On the personal front it seems to be an exercise in self-esteem management.

Making my life sound interesting on a daily - or hourly- basis is a chore. I read every one's posts and wonder how they do it. When I start to analyze I realize that many don't have a fascinating life. They tend to post the same thing over and over......sort of advertising how boring they are. I made a rule for myself about not posting something if I have said it one or two times already. It keeps me from repeating "Oh my GOD I woke up at 3 AM again!" The world and my friends don't need to be reminded that I am an insomniac.

Being witty and on for the world to see is, likewise, a burden. I try to save the bon mots for the friends who will share in a delicious giggle with me- in real time. I appreciate when people share something witty on Facebook but it seems strained when they constantly have to one up themselves to maintain the facade.

And the biggest burden is for Facebook users to appear engaged, civic minded and selfless at all times. They are supporting a cause, being righteous or telling you what side of the political fence they fall on by "liking" someone else's post, cause or whatever. It all feels so superficial to me. Does no one do anything nice or right just for the personal thrill of it? Does it need to be broadcast? I will admit that I have participated in some of this self promotion in the past because it feels like the rules of the game. I feel as uncomfortable doing it now as I do in sporting bumper stickers on my car. I do nice things because it is the right thing to do.... not because I am branding myself.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Power of Andy... Squared

I stayed at my sister's house the other night. It was still dark when I woke up and snuck downstairs to find some coffee. As I walked past her bedroom her husband, Andy called out "is that you Sarah? Come cuddle with me." My sister Reta has the weirdest work habits of anyone I know so she had already cleared out of bed to jump on her computer...leaving her hollow in the bed for me.

Andy's invite was all I needed. I climbed into bed and assumed the world's most comfortable position, spooning- pushing my butt into his union suited stomach, his arms around my shoulders. He noted how familiar my body felt- being practically a double of his wife- and then proceeded to tell me how beautiful, funny and personable I am. As I struggle with the definition of happiness and what a relationship is these were words that were soothing.

I asked him to hold me tighter.... and he did. With his lips practically on my ear he told me how wonderful his relationship with my sister is. She is even tempered. She never holds a grudge. She says exactly what she wants. She lets him know when he is being a jerk. And he appreciates being told. She follows her heart and allows him to do the same.

I want that. And it felt good just to be held.

As I wandered downstairs finally to find my first cup of coffee. Reta looked up from her computer and noted I was up. I told her I had been in bed with her husband cuddling.

"He's a good cuddler, isn't he?"

Yup.

Andy and Reta sharing a smooch.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Digging Up Some Personal Dirt

Things can take a while to sink in/fit in/make sense in my head. On my drive to work this morning I thought some more about the shootings out in Arizona and the media response to it. Most people have moved past it to more recent news but I am just starting to figure it out.

It would be nice to apportion blame to a larger force than a lone, crazy gunman. It is human nature to want to find a reason behind something that has disturbed us and if it was a lone crazy gunman the reasoning stops there. No linear thinking or reasoning involved. So we start to blame everyone but the most obvious instigator. We blame the "other." And the media played into our collective deep, dark needs.

I think the truth is that it was a lone crazy gunman. But just saying the shooter had faulty wiring doesn't satisfy our need to seek retribution. Punishing an insane person serves no one- they won't ever show remorse or be deterred by punishment. Only a sane person can understand the concept of cause & effect, crime & punishment.

But I don't think this lets everyone else off the hook. And by "everyone else" I mean the people who have used inflammatory language in this current social climate. We all need to respect the power of words- their ability to strengthen, destroy, marshal, belittle and enlighten. Political and military leaders have used language to sway and persuade. It is a huge disservice to our ability to communicate if we say we cannot make someone do something with words alone.

I also think it is human nature to try to find a place to put our strong emotions. I think the young shooter had huge feelings of anger, hate & resentment. His past shows a history of similar problems. I think he latched onto a seeming struggle between our political factions and poured his feelings into it. And these feelings allowed him to turn people into enemies, something less than human. He conflated anger into moral right.

And I think there is a much smaller lesson to take away. And I will make it personal here. As I struggle with feelings inside of me- sorting, dividing, dismissing & exploring- the confusion wells up in me. I find I lash out, make pronouncements, ask and weep as I struggle to make sense of it all. And those around me pay. I pour my heap of confusion into my bucket of relationships.

But I would like to think that a love that binds will keep them by me as I do for them.

Sarah uncovering more dirt. Or is it a new lily garden?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Miss Communication

Is there some trick to it that I don't get? Did I miss yet another queue for an important life skill manual because I was busy contemplating my navel?

And most importantly.... why do they make it look so easy in the movies?
  • Communication
  • Misunderstanding
  • Reiteration
  • Resolution
In an effort to be the most honest, selfish & happy person in the world I keep running smack into other people trying to do the same thing. Their thing sometimes runs counter to my things.

On the other hand I reflect that if all went smoothly every single day it would be boring. I would cease to put effort into things. I would walk around in a stupor. It would be the proverbial happy pill.

Happiness can be in the stretching, growing and trying.

Cheers! Sarah having a cappuccino in Florence.