A Christmas Holiday with Gail

While this Christmas season will be a somber one for my family, I find myself reminiscing about a holiday spent with Gail in Santa Barbara. For those who are new to Sundays with Stella, I wrote about my last visit with her two years ago. You can read this first to give context to today’s post. She means so much to me, and I’m thinking of her this Christmas. Thank you for joining me on this journey down memory lane.

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Gail Miller, 2015. Photograph by Stella Kalaw

December 2016.

At the last minute, my boss, Mary Margaret, approved my request to take three days off over Christmas. Earlier in the week, Tina had to fly to Manila on short notice after receiving a text from her brother about their father’s worsening health. She suggested I spend Christmas with Gail, who was ecstatic when I called to share the news of my impromptu visit.

I left at 6:30 a.m. on the 22nd and made the six-hour drive to Santa Barbara. My first stop was a brief catch-up with an old friend in a church parking lot, where she handed me a ziplock bag containing a butterfly—a gift for me to photograph. I then drove to Gail’s, taking my usual scenic route through the Mission Canyon area via Alameda Padre Serra.

“Oh, Hi sweetie!” She was standing at the back door with her arms outstretched. I ran and gave her a big hug.

"You drove all the way down in that tiny car?" she asked with a chuckle, pointing at the red SMART car parked in her driveway. I laughed and nodded. It was the farthest I’d traveled in it, and so far, the journey had gone smoothly.

"Yup, I’m still in one piece," I replied.

I grabbed my rolling bag from the car. Murphy, the cat, greeted me with a purr as I stepped inside. I bent down to pet him before heading to the guest bedroom to settle in.

We decided to prepare an early dinner. I always bring a few Outdoor Herbivore backpacking meals when I travel to avoid inconveniencing anyone with my vegan and gluten-free dietary needs. While I opened a packet, Gail fired up the stove to heat a kettle of water. She grabbed a Trader Joe’s frozen meal from the freezer and popped it into the microwave. Once the water was ready, I poured it into a bowl of my lemongrass curry meal and let it sit for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, she set the dining table, and together we carried our dishes over.

Gail Miller in her 20s.

Afterward, we moved to the living room and chatted for the rest of the evening. Murphy kept us company, curling up next to Gail’s feet. Our conversation meandered from one topic to another, guided by whatever came to her mind. She retold familiar stories— growing up in Niagara Falls, moving to Santa Barbara in the 1970s when Vern, her ex-husband, enrolled at Brooks Institute, working at the school’s library, and enjoying her interactions with the students, especially those from different countries. She took pride in making them feel welcome, knowing they were far from their families. I reacted as though I were hearing them for the first time. In turn, I shared memories of my time at Brooks, including some funny incidents from when I was a student. Mostly, I listened. Right up until we retired for the night, she was brimming with energy.

The following day, Karla, another Brooks student, and her son, Devon, drove up from Los Angeles to visit Gail. They arrived around noon, and we gathered in the living room. I had met Karla a few years earlier when she brought her students on a field trip to San Francisco. It was wonderful to catch up with her.

Gail, Me, Karla, and Devon.

I had to excuse myself mid-afternoon when my good friend JZ pulled up in the driveway to fetch me. She brought an extra pair of sneakers so we could go for a hike at her favorite spot in Montecito. Light drizzle turned into a steady rain. We had so much fun but ended up drenched. When JZ dropped me off, Karla, Devon, and Gail were still in the living room. I took a quick shower and then went out together for a quick dinner at Chipotle. It was too late to drive back to LA so Karla and Devon stayed the night.

Afternoon hike with JZ. December 2016.

It was a beautiful Santa Barbara day on Christmas Eve morning, with clear skies and a slight chill in the air. JZ and I headed downtown to shop for produce at the Farmer's Market. For tonight’s menu, she planned to roast fresh vegetables, so we picked up tomatoes, eggplants, carrots, and potatoes. We also grabbed a bunch of kale and a bag of string beans to round out the mix. That evening, she went all out, cooking a fantastic dinner complete with wine and candlelight.

Gail and Sean. Christmas Dinner. December 2016.

Gail with Iris and Seraph at the dinner table. December 2016.

Gail was in good spirits, chatting and laughing at the table. She seemed delighted watching Seraph and Iris playing after dinner. She admired the photographs on the walls and took notice of the photo books on the shelves.

“I had so much fun, Stella. Thank you for bringing me along,” she said during the drive back to her place. She gently patted my arm, and I smiled back.

On Christmas morning, Gail and I attended mass at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church in Montecito. Although she grew up Catholic, she hadn’t been to mass in decades. After making the sign of the cross, her long-term memory seemed to kick in. She recited prayers and sang Christmas hymns effortlessly. She enjoyed every moment of it.

With a heavy heart, it was time for me to make the long drive back to San Francisco. Although my visit was short and sweet, it was a holiday celebration I will always treasure. Our limited time together felt especially precious knowing I will lose a part of her as every year passes and her memory continues to fade. Creating these moments and having these photographs help keep her vibrant in my mind.

“Okay, sweetie. Drive safely, all right? And call me when you get home,” she said, giving me one last hug. We waved at each other as I backed out of her driveway.

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