Some folks don’t think fa la la thoughts at this time of year.
For many, it’s funk, funk, funk.
Betty Sehlke of Silvana has faced too many tragedies in December to welcome the holidays. Three loved ones died within hours of Christmas.
Three years ago, her beloved disabled daughter, Sandra, died Dec. 23.
“The only way I went on with life after losing my daughter was forcing myself to do the things that I had done before, like bowling, seeing plays, playing cards and doing volunteer work for three organizations,” said Sehlke, 74. “I try to follow her example: No matter what your limitations are, reach out your hand to others and live life to the fullest.”
When her daughter was 6, Sandra got a fever that exceeded 105 degrees. She was left a quadriplegic with a sharp mind. Her mother said her daughter, who loved to knit, had a body destroyed by illness but never lost her spirit or goodness.
Her child left the hospital that year on Christmas Eve, facing a death sentence. She went on to live with her mother for most of her 43 years.
Sandra Sehlke died quietly in the middle of the night three years ago. At that time, all her mother wanted to do was go to bed, cover her head and shut out the world.
“I can’t tell you what I did on that Christmas Day after Sandra’s death. I went into a robot state of mind. It was like I was seeing a movie and had no control over what happened.”
Among her sparse Christmas decorations is a small tree that was given to Sandra at the hospital when her daughter was such a sick child. Sehlke can still recall the sound of carolers in the hospital aisles.
But she isn’t a person who cries. Her English heritage includes a stiff upper lip.
“During the Falklands War, my husband and I were staying at a plush hotel in Scotland. After dinner tea was formally served at small tables set before a roaring fire, we looked at a TV tuned to the news. They showed pictures and said one of their ships had been sunk. For a moment, there was stunned silence. For about two minutes there was talk about the ship and then the conversation went right back to what they were planning to do the next day.”
She told her husband, Leonard Tate, it was hard to understand that sort of denial. He said the World War II generation knew that whatever happened, life went on.
Her first marriage to Tex Sehlke ended 26 years ago in divorce. She met Tate at church in Silvana, a proper Englishman here on a visit, and they were happily married for eight years.
Tate died on Christmas Eve 1989 of an aneurysm.
She was later married to Lewis Willey, retired from the Boeing Co.s for almost nine years, but he died of cancer at Christmas.
“He was a wonderful man who didn’t care that I had a quadriplegic daughter living at home with me,” Sehlke said. “He gave her so much love and attention that she adored him.”
He knew Christmas was a hard time for his wife. He managed to hang on until 5 a.m. Dec. 26.
With a heavy heart, Sehlke wanted to flee for the holidays two years ago. She thought of China, a place that didn’t celebrate Christmas, and held no haunting memories. Her veterinarian said her then-16-year-old dog might not survive the separation, so she didn’t leave home.
“To some folks, giving up a dream for a dog might sound silly,” Sehlke said. “But some day I, too, will be old and hope that no one will want me to go to my last sleep because I am interfering in their pleasure.”
This year, she plans to spend a quiet Christmas with friends. Perhaps they will chat about one more Christmas calamity.
Sehlke wasn’t ready to retire in 2002 after 22 years selling real estate, but she was shocked to arrive at the office one day to discover the company had gone out of business.
The firm locked the door right after the company Christmas party.
Columnist Kristi O’Harran: 425-339-3451 or oharran@heraldnet.com.
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