Doris Kyburz |
I am writing this for those of you who knew our friend Doris Kyburz. Doris died Thursday night and we are dealing
with the shock of the loss.
With all the rains hitting the Bay Area, Doris had slipped
and fallen on her deck and thought she had sprained her ankle. She called the doctor but couldn’t get an
appointment till the next day. When she
went in at 3 p.m. the next day, she got the ankle x-rayed and was sent home to
wait yet another day for the results. At
some point, though, it turned out there was a break and a blood clot developed,
which traveled to her heart. She died in
the ambulance on the way to Richmond hospital.
My office at Keio University was four doors down from the
German Department, and Doris and I met back in the early 90s because nobody who
ever saw Doris in those days missed an opportunity to get to know her. In a world where learning German involved
becoming dutiful and focused on which prepositions took the Dative and which
the Accusative, Doris had her classes singing and dancing and acting out Grimm’s
fairy tales. I spotted her as a natural
born teacher and we became friends immediately.
One of my favorite moments of all time was when she entered
the faculty dining room, her hair dyed flaming red, covered head to toe in
black leather. The only way she could
have garnered more attention would have been to ride her Harley Davidson onto
the balcony. I suggested it and she said
she’d give it some serious consideration for her next entrance.
Taku and I had just met and while many of my friends were riding
me about robbing the cradle, Doris decided we made a cute couple and became our
most frequent dinner guest. At some
point the strict environment of the language department made her seek greener
pastures and she decided she’d become a masseuse. Taku and I had the benefit of being her first
guinea pigs. Next thing we knew she was
taking photos of us in our underwear.
God knows what the neighbors would have thought who might have gotten
wind of this. Doris was single-mindedly
concerned with demonstrating over time that she was not merely concerned with
tight muscles. She wanted to help us
stand taller and straighter and live more healthy lives.
Because whatever Doris did she did earnestly, this new
passion took her first to Massachusetts, then to Hawaii to learn from the best
how to pummel strangers on a massage table.
By the end of the 90s Taku had moved to California and Doris joined us
at some point and decided California was the place for her. The passion for “whole body health” went the
way of “German through laughter” and she found her way into the age of the
internet. Specifically designing
software for toys for the German market.
She joined our chosen family by making a connection with Dov and Cathy
Rosenfeld that has lasted to this day when she was still a regular at seders
and Thanksgiving and other occasions. Dov
and Cathy like to tell the story about how when the daughter they were going to
adopt was being born and they needed to run to the hospital to be there for her
birth, it was Doris they called in the middle of the night to be with their other daughter. “We need
you, now,” Dov said. “How soon?” Doris asked. “Three centimeters,” they answered. Doris was there in ten minutes.
Doris wasn’t much of a housekeeper. Her kitchen was filled with screeching birds
and her living room the playground for Moya, a huge German Shepherd and for
Calhoun, the dog known as the crazy dog.
I can’t tell you how my heart aches as I imagine these wonderful
creatures (not the birds – I never cared for the birds) sitting and waiting for
her to return. This image says all there
is to say about the cruelty of death and the horror of loss.
At the moment we are working with Doris’s family in
Switzerland as they face both the loss and the need to pick up the pieces that
an unprepared-for death involves.
It’s too soon to be writing this. The shock has not worn off.
But I write because I just don’t know what else to do.
So sorry to hear this, Alan. Doris must have been doing what she thought was the right thing by not going to the ER for treatment. What a shocking loss for you and all her ofher friends and family. I hope her nonhuman friends are being cared for. Sending love and hugs FWIW.
ReplyDeletethank you for posting this.
ReplyDeleteI knew Doris only as a patient at Sarana Community Acupuncture but always found her to be full of life, engaging, multi-faceted, kind and considerate. I was astounded to hear of the death of so vivacious a person within weeks of having seen her healthy, cheerful, and looking forward to figuring out the next turn in life. Your post has let me meet Doris in a wider context. I wish I'd had more of her --- she touched my life, even from our sporadic short interchanges. My condolences to all of you who deeply feel her passing.