Dancing Together Ever Since

Teresa Carey Words 22 Comments

Daphne passed away Wednesday, August 25, 2010 at her home with her loving family at her side. Daphne was born February 22, 1928 in the British Colony of Kharagpur. Daphne graduated with honors from a private boarding school in Kurseong, India, located in the Himalayan Mountains. She had a passion for the arts and her exceptional talent in canvas painting was recognized by Great Britain.

In 1944 in Darjeeling, India, Domenick, a drummer in the United States Army Band, sounded an immediate drum roll as Daphne walked into the dance hall with her parents. He knew right then she would be his forever.

They wed on April 11, 1946 in Kharagpur, India, moved to West Virginia in June of 1946 and Michigan became their home in December of 1950, where they have been dancing together ever since.

Daphne was compassionate and selfless, with an amazing sense of humor and adventure, though love and devotion for her family always came first, she sincerely touched the hearts and lives of all that were fortunate enough to meet her. (taken from my grandma’s obituary)

My Grandma survived several bouts of cancer during her lifetime and the non-profit Mayo Clinic provided much of her necessary care. A gift can be made to Mayo Clinic in memory or in honor of a special person, such as my grandmother. By making a contribution, Mayo Clinic can continue to provide a more promising future for people with cancer and their families. If you are interested in making a donation to honor my grandmother, please write her name, Daphne, and my email address (teresa@sailingsimplicity.com), in a short note or in the memo portion of a check addressed to Mayo Clinic. They will send a notification of your generous remembrance (gift amount is not disclosed).

Comments 22

  1. Snoodle Time

    I’m so sorry to hear your grandmother passed. I know it is a big loss for you. When I lost my grandmother, I tried to remember all the good stories I had and all the good times I spent with her. Tell some of your stories. I’d like to hear them.


  2. Gerald Brummell

    How wonderful to have shared the joy of her laugh. Her love. The history you shared. The touch. The talent she bestowed to you. The beauty of your blood. How beautiful the memory of your trips around the sun together. You were both so blessed.

    Teresa you will see it. At first like an eyelash out of place. Something. Then you will notice it. Beautiful. Bright. Warm. You will smile and look more closely at it and immediately wonder. ‘Why is that one different?’ …. And you will remember. The warmth, the love. A flow of feeling.

    As it pulses, you will then realize, it pulses with the beats of your own heart. You will smile, a tear of joy surrenders to gravity,…. And you will know, the new one,…. Just ‘there’ alone in the night sky, is twinkling just for you.

    My thoughts are with you at this time,…. And I celebrate the joy you knew in this beautiful soul you love so.

  3. Douglas

    I was sorry to read of your Grandmothers passing on. Some see only the sadness in such events, but you can see it another way . Now your Grandmother can sail with you on your adventures. Welcome her aboard.

  4. Paula

    I’m sorry to hear of your grandmother’s passing, Teresa, but I do agree with Snoodle Time’s request that you tell the stories. When you’re ready, they will be wonderful to share. You have a nice way of writing, about a nice way of seeing. I particularly enjoyed the piece you wrote about how you and Daphne used Skype together.

  5. Gwen

    I’m truly sorry about your Grandmother. She is lovely in the photo. I know you will miss her. Yes, I’m certain that it is so painful. But it is because there is so much love. Thank goodness for the love.

  6. Toni Bailey

    Your Grandma lives on forever in each and every one of you. All of you reflect all the love and talents and zest for living that both of your Grandparents had in your own special ways. You’re so blessed to have those gifts. you so honored her by giving your beloved sailboat her name. It’s no wonder she was able to fight to live as long as she did…she didn’t want to miss seeing and hearing all the wonderful life gifts you all kept presenting her with. I can’t wait to read the stories you write in the future. she’s in the loving arms of the angels now. She will never, ever be forgotten.

  7. Leah

    I am so very sorry to hear of your lovely grandmother’s passing!!! I know that you must have loved her very much, as I am sure she did you!! I lost someone very close to me (my aunt) 2 weekends ago, and I know how hard it is to have that void. She will be shining down on you with the stars in the sky, and whispering hello in the gentle breezes. Those we love are never really gone, just with us in different ways. My heart goes out to you!

  8. Nicole

    I’m so sorry to hear about your grandma’s death. However, I am very happy to see that you are able to honor her life through your blog. I wish I had the strength nine months ago when my father died to do the same on my blog. You keep her alive in your stories and in your continued love for all the things she used to love- travel, art, and family. I am here if you ever need someone to talk to.

  9. RickBarlow

    Recently lost a dear friend. Found this. For everyone, hope it helps.

    By Elizabeth Harper Neeld, Ph.D.

    I don’t think you ever get over the loss in your heart. I think you have to acknowledge the fact that, when you love someone and that person is gone, you’re going to miss him or her. And that has nothing to do with your spiritual strength or trust or even with whether you’ve been true to your grieving. It’s a perfectly human thing to continue to miss [someone] who has died. When Christmastime comes, Christmas Eve, and there’s no Cliff who’s going to walk in the door with a big sack of presents and say, ”Hi, Mom!” I have a hard time.

    But there’s no agonizing over Cliff now. There is peace and a quiet calmness. Dean and I are comfortable with the situation. If something beautiful happens or we’re somewhere Cliff would have been with us, we’ll say, “Hi, Cliff, wish you could see this…how’s it going, ol’ boy?” Something like that, but it’s not heavy. (Excerpt from Seven Choices by Elizabeth Harper Neeld)

    We feel so bad when we are grieving that it is not a surprise when we wonder, “How long will I have this terrible pain? Will this suffering ever end?”

    To talk about this, we need to think about two kinds of time.

    There is chronos time.

    This is the kind of time measured by a calendar. Chronos time is counted in days, weeks, months, years. Chronos time describes a continuum of past, present, and future. It is the kind of time measured by clocks. A simple way to talk about chronos is as physical time.

    Then there is kairos time.

    Kairos time refers to “the time within which personal life moves forward.” The movement we experience as a result of moments of awakening or realization measures Kairos time. Kairos time refers to a deepening process that results from our paying attention to the present moment, a process through which we are “drawn inside the movement of our own story.” Kairos is an ordered but unmeasured kind of time outside space-time.

    We might be tempted to measure the time of our grieving in chronos time. “Oh, it’s been a year—four seasons have passed—I should be ok by now.” Someone may suggest, “Give yourself a few months. You’ll feel like yourself again.” But it is not useful to measure our grieving in chronos time. In fact, chronos time is helpful only in that it gives us a span within which to experience our own kairos time. To think that because a certain amount of time has passed we should be farther along in our grieving is to set up a false measure of how well we are doing. The mere passing of days and weeks and months and years does not within itself bring integration of our loss.

    What matters is kairos time. What insights have I had? What have I realized? What meaning am I making of this terrible loss? We each have our own “entelechy”—to use a term from anthropology—that means our own “immanent force controlling and directing development.”

    The amount of calendar time it takes to reach integration in our grieving is determined by our own kairos time, through our own entelechy. That’s why there is no right or wrong amount of time an individual should take to grieve.

    All that being said, what else can we note about time and grieving?

    From my own experience and from the research I’ve done for decades on the grieving process, I can say this: the amount of time each of us takes to reach integration of our loss is usually longer rather than shorter.

    What do I mean by this?

    That the amount of kairos time it takes each of us to reach a place where the loss is integrated into our lives but does not dominate our lives is longer than “the person on the street” might suggest. Many folks around us would like for the process to be shorter rather than longer because they are not comfortable with the whole experience of grieving. As a society, we have cultural practices that suggest grieving should be short. (Don’t, for instance, many government workers get three days off when they lose a family member?)

    The good news is that healthy grieving does result, at the time right for each of us, in an experience of integration. We take stock and say: I am changed by our loss, and I have changed my life as a result of my loss. And we are not shriveled permanently like a dry stick because of our loss. We can feel alive again…probably wiser, maybe quieter, certainly full of gratitude and a desire to contribute from what we have been through.

    And all in good time. All in good kairos time.

  10. Kristi Sue

    I will always remember the way your Grandma would look at us like we were the two craziest girls on earth! She will be dearly missed.

  11. Fran

    I don’t think any of us really totally understood what a remarkable woman she was…was she a saint, of course not, but was she honest, fun, loving, talented, faithful, nurturing, brave, and so much more, …you would of had to know her to totally see….she will be greatly missed..but she braved her illness longer than most of us could even imagine…she continued to give us her support and love thru all that time….and it will bless us always…she is always in my heart.

  12. Betty

    Daphne was my dearest friend, we went to school together.

    Every time our school days come to mind, it makes me smile… Dow Hill…
    the fun… the great camaraderie from a one-of-a kind lady. I feel so very
    fortunate that she has been part of my life.

    Like you, I will miss her dearly, but her memory is a keepsake.

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  14. Adriftatsea

    Oh, I’m so sorry to hear this. You and your family have my condolences and sympathies. I remember what it was like when my grandmother passed away. She was a central part of my life as she raised me, my twin and my sister for the most part and lived with my family for the last third of her life.

    I am glad that you shared your grandmother with us, and she lives on in your memories and in your boat, her namesake. I hope that you will be able to celebrate your memories of her and that the pain of your loss fades quickly. As long as you remember her and honor your memories of her, she will live on.

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