For all who knew and loved Nan through her internet presence, and for Nan - below is a recounting of my experience attending Nan’s funeral service on March 10, 2006Spring Summers, 11-Mar-2006
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Cincinnati: As I approached, I began to feel the same feeling that I always experience, catching sight once again of the River Queen: Exhilaration mixed with longing.
Cincinnati: It’s where I gained a son, and lost a husband. The last time I was in Cincinnati, it was for a business meeting. And as I drove down Reading Rd, I tuned in a local oldies radio station. When I was no more than 5 or 6 blocks from my former apartment, Garth Brooks' song,
The Dance began to play:
I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance
I coulda missed the pain
But I’da had to miss the dance.
Cincinnati: This biggest thing I learned in Cincy last night was this:
Nan danced. Not that I didn’t know that already – I just hadn’t known quite how continuously and enthusiastically and graciously she’d tripped the light fantastic during her time here on Planet Earth.
I am so, so glad that I went to the funeral. It was the best and most fun funeral service I’ve ever attended. Our flowers were there, as was your beautiful white bouquet,
Lola. There was no clergy member, and Nan’s body wasn’t there. But Nan was. As everyone shared their thoughts and feelings, she was so present in the minds and hearts gathered, that she was nearly tangible.
Nan’s very gracious brother
Jay had arranged for approximately 20 souls to gather in the tiny funeral home, in the unassuming Price Hill section of Cincinnati. To everyone’s laughter and delight, he began by telling us all that Nan was one of the best people he ever knew, but one of the worst drivers. Then he invited us all to begin sharing our thoughts and memories.
Her longtime friends,
Mary and Irene were unable to hold back tears as they told of Nan’s loyal, valuable, and unswerving friendship throughout the years. Because she was so tearful, Mary asked me to read to everyone the poem that had been posted by
Diane on our board – the one by Cannon Henry Scott Holland, called
The Room (
Death is nothing at all – you can see it here: [url=http://scubiefan.proboards48.com/index.cgi?board=general&action=display&thread=1141838990&page=12
]Part 658, page 12[/url].)
I read it aloud, and then I talked a little about Nan, and her life on the web. I told them how much she had meant to so many – on the board and live journal and beyond. Several people remarked on how far I had driven to be there, and I said that I was closest person, and I wanted to be there, to represent the literally hundreds of people, all over the country and all over the world, touched by Nan, through her internet presence. Others had talked of her PhD, and two Masters degrees, and her many publications – so I mentioned how modest and unpretentious Nan had always been about her many, and very impressive, accomplishments. I spoke about how helpful she was always willing to be to other writers, and how she had always given me encouragement and praise. I told about meeting her in Chicago, and how I had found that though she wasn’t really a gushy or sentimental sort, she still exuded a very real warmth.
Becca, Dev, Riff, cal: Several people remarked that they knew that she had friends on the board “even from the UK!” So I know that she must have mentioned you. Apparently, she talked about us all, often.
Matthew: After I was done speaking, I had this exchange with George:
GEORGE: “There was that one fellow on the board – she liked him a lot, talked about him all the time – she called him her ‘virtual nephew.’”
ME: “Oh! Matthew!”
GEORGE: “Yes. Tell him she really thought a lot of him. She was always talking about her ‘virtual nephew’.”
ME: “Well, I think he knew that. But I
will tell him that you confirmed it.”
So there you go.
I learned that Nan used to type with a cat wrapped around her neck, and that she once built a large retaining wall using rocks from the bottom of a lake – that she had gathered herself, by going out in a small rowboat, and loading rocks until it would start to sink - at which point, she’d row back to shore. I learned that Irene, her college roommate, ended up at one point taking a class from Nan, thinking it would be a breeze to take a class from her best pal. Au contraire! Nan gave her no slack, wanting her to learn and do her best. I found out that Nan very recently, was giving a down-on-her-luck co-worker frequent rides to work, even making sure her little girl got to school in the morning. I found out that she once gave a severe dressing down to large former soldier who threw a book in one of her classes – she took him outside and little Nan lit into big soldier boy so formidably that he was the soul of civility in her class, from there on in.
I saw a picture of Nan as a very young woman (lovely!) and I found out that at the age of 6, she’d been a “Quiz Kid” on a then popular radio show with Derwood Kirby. She won the first round, then lost during a spelling round - the person who spelled the longest word, won. Nan spelled “daguerreotype.” A much older boy spelled “antidisestablishmentarianism.” We all agreed she wuz robbed!
There was much laughter, as people remembered the truly unique and inimitable Nan Dibble. Irene talked about Nan’s reaction to one of her sci-fi book covers that included the depiction of one of her female characters as excessively buxom and scantily clad. “Hmmm,” said Nan to Irene, “is this what you were picturing?”
To me, the funniest moment of the evening came when George revealed a secret to everyone. It went like this:
GEORGE: “Well, this was always a secret, but I guess I can tell everyone now. I had proposed to Nan. About 20 years or so ago, we talked seriously about marriage.”
IRENE: “Actually – she told me that.”
JAY: “I knew that too.”
At that point, people began to laugh.
MARY: “I knew it.”
ME: “So did I.”
More laughter – as one after another, people began to pipe up with the “Me too.”
ME: “I have to say – actually - the whole board knew.”
More cracking up, while George smiled and looked a little sheepish.
GEORGE: “Well, if I would’ve known everybody knew already, I wouldn’t have brought it up!”
And we laughed some more. I found out Nan once made a dress and cape from a table cloth with heavy green fringe, and loved to wear the ensemble. (IRENE: “It was the 60’s!) It was a wonderful experience. I was so, so glad that I went. And it was such an honor and a privilege, to be among those counted as Nan’s friends, and to represent all of you.
Jay brought the proceedings to a close after about an hour or so, by thanking everyone for coming. I thanked him for arranging such a perfect good-bye, checked with the lovely Mary about my directions back to the freeway, gave her a hug, and left the funeral home. In my car, I turned the radio on, and headed toward I-71-N. Just as I neared the 275 Outerbelt, guess what came on? Garth Brooks and
The Dance.Our lives are better left to chance. I could missed the pain, but I’da had to miss the dance.Nan danced. And if she could see our tears and sadness now, I think she’d take a look at us, paraphrase her favorite character and say: “S’cubies - you
know you wanna dance.”
So, S’cubes, in Nan’s memory, let’s boogie on. [/quote]
This was beautiful. I love that song - and have no doubt that it playing on your radio was no coincidence. Thanks for the terrific description. What more can you ask of life - than that you danced?