I have not been able to write about Chama. Chama was my cousin Sandy's wife, and she died last week. Here is her obituary. http://www.anewtradition.com/obituaries/2011/01/diana-chama-alina-sanchez/

That first sentence says everything I knew of her: She lived her life with a vibrancy and optimism that was contagious. She was so easy to be with. She glowed.

I knew her as a loud proud dyke. There's this great photo of her and Sandy at, I think, Portland gay pride. Sandy's heavily pregnant and she's got the words "Baby Daddy" on her belly with a big arrow pointing at Chama. Chama has a "This is What a Feminist Looks Like" t-shirt on.

I knew her as a fashion goddess. Bright colors, polka dots--she had a look I loved.

I knew her as a member of the family. We had brunch on the porch at my dad's house. We played board games in the living room of my mom's. And of course, the wedding and the baby naming ceremony.

I knew her as a parent. We talked about how she wanted to discipline Tevi differently than her mother had disciplined her. We hung out at the park with our kids.

I knew her as a cancer patient, except I didn't really know because even though I was with her hours after a treatment, she never seemed to be in pain or discomfort. I'm sure she was, but she either kept that very private or chose to focus on something else. I'm trying to learn from her how to live my life full of fun and creativity.

We spent the day with her the day before she died. Sandy sent an email to Chama's fan club saying the end was now and Chama would love to have us all come and say good-bye. So, we did. We drove to Portland with the kids and hung out. As it says in the obituary, Chama had a relaxed day of visiting with friends and family, she went out dancing with Sandy, and she died at home, surrounded by loved ones, the next day.

She was my age.