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Tiny raindrops drizzled softly on the simple pine casket sitting between two trees. Wildflowers decorated the cover. All around, nature blessed the terrain with the August monsoon rains, whose drops encapsulated the desert colors of green cedar trees, red earth and golden rocks.

Aug. 12, 2001, was the day my friend, Kathryn, was laid to rest - "without fanfare" (her request) - south of El Morro National Monument, on a slight hill overlooking a valley and small hills. At age 85, her four blood-pressure medicines had ceased to work, and she died peacefully in bed at her home in Ramah.

Kathryn and I met in the 1980s when we were employed as nurses at the Acoma-Ca¤oncito-Laguna Hospital on the Acoma reservation.

She was quite an eccentric woman, who, while living in Grants, was building her dream house in Ramah, a small community between Grants and Zuni Pueblo.

She came from Illinois and landed a job with the feds on the rez. Her adult children - two sons and a daughter - were scattered about the world, and she did not talk much about them. I met them at the grave site on the day of the burial.

On her days off from her job, she went to "supervise the workers" but actually did much of the labor herself.

We left the hospital about the same time in 1991. I came back to town, and she went to work in a health clinic in Ramah.

We kept in touch, and she came to Albuquerque periodically to attend symphony concerts, for doctors' visits and for grocery shopping. Staying at the Motel 6 on University Boulevard provided her with easy access to whatever she was in town for.

After retirement, she joined an archaeological society and went on many digs around the state and in Mexico. She regularly went to Ramah Lake to clean up after the people who left rubbish behind after fishing trips.

Her nearest neighbors were miles down a dirt road, and, in the melting winter snow, the roads were impassable. In the summer, however, she delighted in roaming about in her car. Her garden was a futile effort because of the rabbits, squirrels and deer who came to devour the vegetables she tried to grow. But she treasured the wildlife around her. Hummingbird feeders decorated three sides of her house above the decks. A bear came to visit one day but was shooed away with a gunshot into the air.

She loved Laguna Pueblo Feast Day, attending Mass, walking in the procession to the plaza, the dancing and the food.

In January 1999, Kathryn took a three-month journey with five other passengers on the Columbia Star, a British freighter. It took them to Auckland, Melbourne and Perth, Australia, as well as to New Zealand and the island of Tasmania.

She wrote about her experience aboard the ship: "Food is great, especially the kidney and steak pie. Rooms are nice, but nothing elegant. The captain gave a barbecue, and the Filipino crew formed a band for singing and dancing. It is wonderful to sit outside to see the expense of the ocean and be mesmerized by it. The trip has been a blast. Don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

The next December, she wrote from Norway, while on a Norwegian coastal Christmas voyage in the darkness of winter in that part of the world.

"I am on a traditional ship between Trondheim and Rorvik and will be nearing the Arctic Circle in a few days," she said. "Fish is the main cuisine. Everyone is bundled up in snow suits and scarves. Weather has been mild but is rapidly changing as we get close to the Arctic. Hope you had a nice Christmas."

The last time I saw Kathryn was on May 24, 2001, when she came to the luncheon at the Marriott Hotel for my induction into the Senior Hall of Fame. She thoroughly enjoyed herself at this function.

I have learned that the best gifts in life you can give to yourself are the friends you make. When they are gone, they remain in your memory as a living legacy of these treasured gifts.