Walla Walla County now says no coronavirus parties occurred

Virus restrictions reimposed amid patchwork re-openings

PLAINS TWP. &mdash; The year 1968 was unpleasant to say the least.
				First of all, my mom died on May 10, leaving us at the all too young age of 42. As you might expect, I will write about my mom in tomorrow&rsquo;s editions.
				Today, I write about my mom&rsquo;s friend and our neighbor, Sandy Kraynack Potoski.
				On June 6, 1958, my dad and I were distraught. Our lives had changed forever and we had no clue how to deal with life without Elizabeth Kraszewski O&rsquo;Boyle. She was our lives. We didn&rsquo;t know how to cook or clean or shop or sew or remember everything that needed to be done on a daily basis. These were mom&rsquo;s jobs.
				And she loved us unconditionally. Losing her was devastating.
				So when my graduation day came, we went through the motions. I walked through the line, received my diploma and we returned home. Grieving was not over by a long shot &mdash; in fact, it continues today.
				My dad was a very proud man and he struggled to stay composed and to be strong for my sake. I didn&rsquo;t realize it at the time, but I know he wished over and over that my mom could have been there. He knew how important this day would have been for her &mdash; to see her only child graduate from high school.
				In the daily struggle to cope with our loss, no plans were made for a graduation party for me. And I really didn&rsquo;t care. Celebrating was not something I wanted to do.
				Then Sandy stepped to the plate. Sandy told my dad she would host a graduation party for me at her house, just down the street from where we lived. My dad accepted Sandy&rsquo;s offer and we had a party attended by family and close friends.
				There was a mild celebration and I will never forget the kindness Sandy showed to my dad and me. It seemed somewhat disrespectful to celebrate anything just four weeks after my mom had died, but we smiled and chatted and had a nice time.
				In retrospect, that party might have provided much-needed therapy for everyone. It was our first venture into this new world without my mom.
				My mom was such a wonderful person &mdash; a genuine, caring human being. We only had her for a short time, but she managed to leave an indelible mark on everybody &mdash; especially me.
				As did her friend, Sandy, who was full of energy and always ready for anything at the drop of a hat. She would run to Golden Quality for CMPs or to Stookey&rsquo;s for BBQs or she would sit on our front porch and make us laugh.
				When I came down with the mumps at age 10, Sandy taught me how to wiggle my ears. Someday, ask me and I might show you just how good I am at wiggling my ears.
				You never forget people like Sandy. They have special, magic-like powers.
				Sandy&rsquo;s parents were like grandparents to me. Her family was my family.
				That&rsquo;s why, on Christmas Day 1968, we were all devastated when Sandy died of leukemia &mdash; just seven and a half months after my mom had died. Sandy was only 28 years old.
				So when graduation time comes around, my memories are not of pomp and circumstance.
				They are of friendship, compassion, grief, CMPs and wiggling ears &mdash; and my mom and her friend, Sandy.

Coping with Corona: Remembering our good friend Sandy