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#it’s so sad that Linda never met her grandchildren
underthecitysky · 8 months
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Same couch, both pics by Mary.
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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #20: In which Cameron and Donna talk over a movie
[CN: spoilers for Gia (1998); adult women talking about sex and their sex lives]
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Since it was well-known amongst their friends just how easy it was to get Donna to invite people over, Risa unashamedly telephoned her, on a Sunday afternoon, to ask her to host a watch party for the premiere of Gia. Donna, taking the call in the kitchen, agreed immediately, and wasted no time in contacting Dr. Katie Herman, and then when Haley heard about the party, she invited herself and Vanessa. They gathered at 7pm on January 31 of 1998 in Donna’s media room.
Cameron, of course, had been the very first invite, though she had declined. “Uh, as uplifting as watching a movie that inevitably ends with a tragic death due to AIDS complications with the girls sounds, I have plans. Bos and I are going out.”
“Oh,” Donna had pouted. “Well, maybe we can watch it another time, then! Just the two of us?” When Cameron looked up from the copy of Scientific American she’d been skimming through to side-eyed her from across the kitchen island, mug of coffee in hand, Donna wheedled, “Oh come on! It’s about a hot gay woman! Played by a hot, potentially gay woman!” When Cameron gave her another look, Donna crossed her arms over her chest and said, “According to Risa, there are rumors. Something involving an on-set romance during the making of a movie called Foxfire.”
Cameron looked back down at her magazine. “It is so weird to me that they let a gay woman be a hugely successful supermodel. Or not weird, just, I don’t know.” Irritated, she flipped a page, and then added, “I don’t really wanna be interested in something just because it’s about someone gay. But also, like, sure I am? It’s, stupid.” 
With a forlorn little shrug, Donna said, “You’re right, it’s stupid. Might as well use it as an excuse to have your friends over and have fun with it then, right?”
“Again, I feel like ‘fun’ isn’t the word I’d use for watching a tragic story of addiction and terminal illness, but, sure,” Cameron said.
Despite her misgivings, Cameron happily helped Donna get the house ready that day, making sure that the spare rooms and trailer were all habitable for potential overnight guests, as she always did before they had company. When Bos came to pick her up at 4, he came in for a while, and had some coffee with Donna, and then when they were ready to be on their way, Cameron kissed Donna and wished her a nice time with their friends and their sad movie. 
Cameron and Bos went to the local shopping mall for a stroll and some browsing at a large chain retailer of books, where neither of them found anything, and then to their favorite diner, where they sat for a long time after they had their burgers and fries and slices of chocolate peanut butter pie, talking about Bos’s most recent fishing trip, and how things were at Phoenix, and how Haley and Joanie and Bos’s grandson and step-grandchildren were doing. 
Cameron returned around 8:30, and went straight to the media room to see how the watch party was going. From the sound of it, it was in full swing, Cameron could hear cheering and shouting from the hallway. She went into the room, about to say, ‘Hey, guys,’ only to be distracted by the television screen, on which Angelina Jolie had just walked out into the hallway, wearing nothing but a bemused expression. There was a full length shot from behind of her entire, naked body, and then a waist up shot of her from the front, as she tried to talk to another character. Utterly beguiled by Angelina Jolie’s extremely bare, extremely full breasts, Cameron audibly said, “…whoa.”
Everyone laughed (and Vanessa deadpanned, “I mean, we were all thinking it, right?”), which made Cameron blush slightly. 
“Hey! You’re back!” Donna said, smiling brightly. “Wanna join us?” 
Face still pink, Cameron said, “No, no I’m good, thanks! I think I’m just gonna go get my pajamas on!” They laughed more, and Cameron said, “I’ll see you all later, after the movie? Okay cool bye!” She hurried up to the bedroom, where Licorice the cat was hiding from the unexpected invasion of unfamiliar humans. 
Three and a half hours later, after the movie had ended, and they’d all discussed their reactions, questions, and critiques of it over hot chocolate, and Cameron and Donna had thanked everyone and shown them out, Donna went up to the bedroom (Licorice was still there, napping on their bed), but Cameron wasn’t there. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, changed into her pajamas, and then went back down to the kitchen, and then to the media room, where she found Cameron, box of Good’n’Plentys in hand, watching the midnight re-airing of the movie. 
“Couldn’t resist after all, then?” Donna said. 
Cameron literally jumped, sending candy flying. “Jesus, Donna!” 
“Want some company?” Donna offered.
“If you really wanna watch it again, I guess, sure,” Cameron said, trying to collect all of the licorice bits that had fallen into her lap. Donna sat down, getting as close to Cameron as she comfortably could, and crossed her legs underneath her. Aggrieved, Cameron complained, “The stuff with the parents? Depressing.”
“Yeah,” Donna agreed. “In some ways she kinda reminds me of someone, though? I don’t know. Tall and outrageously beautiful yet weird and intense, streetwise yet naive, in love with a lovely if seemingly square woman....”
Cameron smiled bashfully. “If only I’d liked looking pretty, and being seen! I too could be a bisexual supermodel!” She shook some more candy into her mouth. Thickly, she said, “I can’t believe I ever did beauty pageants. I’m so glad I stopped, Christ.”
They sat quietly, Cameron becoming even quieter as Gia and makeup artist Linda met, participated in a what turned into a nude photo shoot together, and proceeded to have sex back at Gia’s apartment. When the movie came back to the scene where Angelina Jolie went out into the hallway naked, Cameron said, “Not to sound cliche or whatever, but, I feel like I didn’t fully get the big deal people make about sex until you. I mean, not like I didn’t enjoy it, just, even when I did really enjoy it, it would feel like something was off? Or like, it didn’t matter what I did or how I did it, because it would feel like, something about me was fundamentally off. Or wrong. I think that’s why it took me so long to break up with J0e,” she admitted. “I never felt like there was something wrong about how I was with him.”
“Aw,” Donna said. She took Cameron’s free hand in her own, looked up adoringly at Cameron, and said, “…that’s gay.”
Cameron snorted, and then said, “I asked for that, huh?”
Donna let go of Cameron’s hand so she could put her arm around Cameron’s shoulders. “Seriously though. I think we have skewed ideas about sex. Unrealistic expectations about how easy or how naturally it will come to us. We think we’re gonna have the best and wildest sex of our lives in our 20s, but it doesn’t work like that? Figuring out what you really like, and what you need to feel fully comfortable, and then finding partners who you’re really compatible with, that takes time, a lot of time, and a lot of effort, too! Every woman I’ve ever talked to about it was well into her 30s when she figured it out.”
“So it’s not just me, then?” Cameron said.
“No, it is definitely not just you,” Donna said.
Quietly, Cameron said, “Do you ever kind of feel like sex is maybe just, like, a little overrated? I really, really like you and all, but….”
Kissing the top of Cameron’s head, Donna said, “Not lately, no! But I know what you’re saying. It’s great but it’s also not worth the indignities a lot of us tolerate for it. People act like it’s a necessity, and it’s not! It’s a luxury! That some people aren’t even that into! And there’s nothing weird about that!”
“It’s a little strange to hear you say that after a year of sleeping with you and seeing first-hand just how much of a freak you are, but I appreciate it nonetheless,” Cameron said. 
“Oh, honey,” Donna arched an eyebrow. “We’re just getting started.” Cameron looked over at her and laughed nervously, and then Donna said, “There’s always gonna be more to us than that, though. Because we started out as more than that, and I’m happy about that. I’m glad that we were partners before we became, you know. Partners.”
Sighing contentedly, Cameron said, “So am I, Boss.”
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Oregon couple’s final days captured in intimate aid-in-dying video
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Oregon couple’s final days captured in intimate aid-in-dying video
Charlie and Francie Emerick rest after a rousing family croquet game at daughter Jerilyn’s home in Portland, Ore., in May 2016. They died together less than a year later after both being diagnosed with terminal illnesses.(Photo: Courtesy of Jerilyn Marler)
On the last morning of their lives, Charlie and Francie Emerick held hands.
The Portland, Ore., couple, married for 66 years and both terminally ill, died together in their bed on April 20, 2017, after taking lethal doses of medication obtained under the state’s Death With Dignity law.
Francie, 88, went first, within 15 minutes, a testament to the state of her badly weakened heart. Charlie, 87, a respected ear, nose and throat physician, died an hour later, ending a long struggle that included prostate cancer and Parkinson’s disease diagnosed in 2012.
“They had no regrets, no unfinished business,” said Sher Safran, 62, one of the pair’s three grown daughters. “It felt like their time, and it meant so much to know they were together.”
In the two decades since Oregon became the first state to legalize medical aid-in-dying, more than 1,300 people have died there after obtaining lethal prescriptions. The Emericks were among 143 people to do so in 2017, and they appear to be the only couple to ever take the drugs together, at the same time, officials said.
The pair, early members of the 1980s-era Hemlock Society, had supported the choice for years, and, when their illnesses worsened, they were grateful to have the option for themselves, family members said.
“This had always been their intention,” said daughter Jerilyn Marler, 66, who was the couple’s primary caretaker in recent years. “If there was a way they could manage their own deaths, they would do it.”
Before they died, the Emericks agreed to allow Safran and her husband, Rob Safran, 62, founders of the Share Wisdom TV Network, of Kirkland, Wash., to record their final days and hours. At first, the video was intended just for family, but then Safran asked her parents for permission to share it publicly.
“I think it can help change the way people think about dying,” she said.
The result is “Living & Dying: A Love Story,” a 45-minute documentary that details the background of the Emericks’ final decision and their resolve in carrying it out.
Shot mostly with handheld smartphones, the video captures the intimate moments of the couple’s preparations in their last week of life.
Charlie Emerick was a former medical missionary in India and chief of ENT at a Portland-area Kaiser Permanente hospital. (Kaiser Health News is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.) He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2012, after dealing with symptoms of the disease for years. He suffered from prostate cancer and heart problems and learned in early 2017 that he had six months or less to live. In the documentary, he described his thoughts as he pondered whether to use aid-in-dying.  
“You keep going, Charlie, you’re going to get worse and worse and worse,” he explained to Sher Safran, in a quavering voice. “The other can’t be worse than this.”
Francie Emerick, who handled marketing and public relations for the hospital in India, appears vital and articulate in the video. Her daughters, however, say that her energy was fleeting and that it masked years of decline following multiple heart attacks and cancer.
In the video, Francie acknowledged that she could have survived a bit longer than her husband. But, she said, she didn’t want to.
“Charlie and I have a rather unique relationship in that we have done and been so much to each other for 70 years,” she said.
The pair carefully followed the specifics of the law, which requires examinations by two different doctors to determine a prognosis of six months or less to live, multiple confirmations of intent and the ability of patients to ingest the lethal drugs themselves. The process takes a minimum of 15 days.
“We do want it to be legal,” Francie said.
The video traces the arc of the couple’s lives. The Emericks met as college students in Nebraska, married on April 4, 1951, and spent years in the 1960s as medical missionaries in Miraj, India. Dr. Emerick’s career took them to Southern California and then to Washington state, to India and ultimately to Oregon, all while raising three girls. In 2004, they moved into an apartment in a retirement community in Portland.
That’s where the Emericks died on a cloudy Thursday last spring, six days after a family celebration that included their children and grandchildren — and, at Francie’s request, root beer floats. The gathering was happy, but bittersweet, family members said.
“There were moments that they expressed great sadness at the goodbye that was coming,” Marler recalled.
The Emericks sought help from Linda Jensen, a veteran team leader with End of Life Choices Oregon, a nonprofit agency that supports people seeking to use the state’s Death With Dignity law.
“They were pretty well informed,” said Jensen, who has assisted with dozens of deaths in 13 years. “What they wanted to understand was what a planned death really looks like.”
The video includes a meeting between Jensen and the Emericks two days before they died. It would be nothing like dying on TV, she told them.
“You do not lose control of your bowel or bladder. You do not gasp for breath,” she explained. Instead, she said, they would simply go to sleep.
The Emericks went over the plan: no breakfast, just pills to calm their stomachs at 9 a.m., followed by the lethal drugs an hour later.
Safran and Marler appear calm and determined as they help finalize their parents’ arrangements.
“There was a lot of grieving ahead of time because we knew it was coming,” Marler said.
Some members of the family disagreed with the couple’s decision, but the Emericks were determined.
“You two have never wavered?” Safran asked her mom.
“We have not,” Francie replied.
The video captured details of the final morning: Charlie saluting the camera farewell as he’s wheeled down the hall, Safran’s tearful last hug from her mother, Charlie and Francie clasping hands after they swallow the drugs.
“It just takes such a huge amount of internal strength and self-knowing to face that choice, to make that choice and then bring along all the people that love you and are going to miss you,” Jensen said.
There was no funeral after the deaths. The Emericks had donated their bodies for research through a program at the Oregon Health & Science University and any remains wouldn’t typically be returned for two or three years, a spokeswoman said.
In the interim, the video has become comforting and precious to the family, said Safran.
“It’s very lovely, just to hear their voices,” she said.
The documentary also serves a larger purpose: helping others to understand how aid-in-dying works, she said.
Carol Knowles, 70, was a member of Francie Emerick’s book club. The Emericks didn’t tell other residents about their plans. Knowles said she was surprised when they died the same day — until she saw the documentary.
“I thought it was brave and beautiful,” she said. “You could see the care with which Charlie and Francie had made that decision.”
Another member of the group expressed concern, however, saying her religion prohibited any efforts to hasten death. Knowles said she plans to take the documentary to the retirement center’s social worker before showing it more widely.
“We want to do it in a way that will not scare them or make them feel uncomfortable,” she said.
Stephen Drake, research analyst for the disability rights group Not Dead Yet, had serious reservations about making the video public. He worried that presenting aid-in-dying in a positive light “changes the expectations; this romanticizes the idea of not just suicide, but a double suicide,” Drake said.
Safran said she expects strong reactions — including criticism — for chronicling her parents’ final days. But she said the documentary honors the Emericks’ belief that, if possible, everyone should have a say in when and how they die.
“We have a faith that says life is not to be worshipped,” Francie said. “It’s the quality of life that counts.”
Kaiser Health News is a nonprofit news service covering health issues. It is an editorially independent program of the Kaiser Family Foundation, which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.
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