Andrea Jean Opalenik

My memories of Andrea go way back. Her sister Mary was a good friend in high school, and later my college roommate. So, I spent a lot of time at the Opalenik house in those younger years. In their household, Mary was the serious, studious one who always had her nose in a book. Andrea was the spritely, carefree spirit, always cracking jokes and getting into mischief.

Andrea and I shared the trait of not taking life too seriously, goofing around, and laughing a lot. In my senior yearbook, she wrote to me “Pam! You’re sooooo cool! You are someone I can call and cry to and forget all about it because you make me laugh so much. This is because your humor is as corny as mine! Don’t forget me in your college years, because everyone needs a friend like you . . . “

I didn’t forget her. We stayed in touch via Mary, and when I moved back to San Jose, CA to go to grad school, we reconnected. She and then husband Tony were living on 16th Street in the cutest little Hippie house I’d even seen. It was a small, rustic-style cabin set way back from the street. There was an enormous lawn in front, flowers all around in planter beds, and an organic vegetable garden in the back. I vividly remember the fishpond by the side porch. It was full of blooming water lilies and goldfish. Andrea had an enormous staghorn fern hanging on the front porch. When she wanted to water that plant, she’d hoist it down and dip it in the pond. “Fish poop is good for plants,” she said with a grin.

Andrea had become a vegetarian and often invited me over for a meal. I’d never eaten food like that before. I remember munching on the crunchy stir-fried broccoli from her garden. It was so fresh and delicious. At the time I was renting a small house with a very large yard. Andrea came over to help me plant my first real vegetable garden and introduced me to composting and organic gardening so I too could grow such healthy, nutritious vegetables. To this day, I have a compost pile and a large organic garden. And we eat a largely vegetarian diet.

Andrea gave birth to Nadine while living in that little house on 16th street. Tony had an impressive record collection, and music was always playing on the stereo in that house. She and Tony delighted in the baby, bouncing her while singing “Nadine, Honey is that You?” and calling her by the tender nickname “Nadine Jellybean.”

But as it does, time went by. They moved away. We lost touch. Andrea went on to have many ups and downs in her life. I was so sad to learn that she was in that tragic accident just as she had achieved happiness in her personal life and success in her profession. Mary tells me that, despite it all, Andrea was able to sustain that cheerful, determined, indomitable spirit. Andrea was a truly remarkable person who lived life fully and touched many people deeply – and I was one of them.

Growing Up with Andrea in Covina, California

Andrea and I were close by virtue of birth age --- two years apart. A perfect numerical differential to perfect our sibling rivalry. Our father rued the day he had put in English Ivy as a border in the front yard after he learned that snails lived within that perfect ecosystem. Andrea raided the ivy one night in order to hide slimy snails between the covers of my bed; I felt their shells collapse under my legs, sending me into spasms of fright and Andrea into sniggering laughter abating only after our parents turned on the lights and read us the riot act.
Our 1950s ranch style house was on a street that had identical houses save slight variations in paint color.. We lived amongst families of mostly four people, who were mostly white save our Latino neighbor next door – Carmen - whom Andrea especially liked because she bought us presents like Paint by Number “art” sets and let us play her drum set. Essentially, we were Father Knows Best middle-class Americans. Except we weren’t. We were Ukrainians with many relatives settled into Southern California. The nearest were two doors away. We didn’t know that we were ostracized by many of the neighbors, who considered us Communists – it was the 1950s.
Outdoors, we ran freely through the orange groves that covered acres and acres behind our fenceless back yard where we played Kick the Can or climbed the orange trees. That was plenty of fun, but Andrea conceived something even better: “Let’s play army.” She and I became captains of our own regiments, whose ranks were neighborhood children many years younger than we were. Rotting oranges, juicy and still sweet, were our grenades. We ate as many as we threw and went home covered in sticky juice. The entire arrangement collapsed after Andrea upped the ante by tying her enemies to trees where the ground was filled with red ants. We were sent to separate rooms in the house to think about what we had done wrong. Andrea emerged that night for dinner dry eyed while I was unable to eat due to weeping. She kicked me under the table and told me to “Be strong.”
Andrea was fearless and single minded, with a will that couldn’t be broken. She liked challenges, not because she wanted to beat others, but to prove to herself she was capable. When she decided to play the oboe, she played it well. When our father taught us high dive skills, she outdid all the cousins by executing fluid swan dives from the diving board of Carmen’s swimming pool. Most of all she loved water, especially the ocean at Crystal Cove, where we swam all day and sometimes into the night under a full moon. We pelted one another with jelly fish, challenged one another to float without looking backwards at incoming waves, and found adventure in the tide pools where the inky blue of the squid was always a spectacle of wonder.
It was no surprise when she announced she was going to become a doctor. She didn’t worry about how long it would take. Once she set a goal, she accomplished it.
Our childhood together remains precious. When I feel weak and rather incompetent, I remember her kicking me under the table and telling me to “Be Strong.” Andrea certainly was.

Andrea, ever since I met you over five years ago, you have inspired me. Your remarkable determination to work toward a goal, despite all obstacles, showed your relentless spirit. As I got to know you better, you often had me laughing out loud with your funny facial expressions and sharp wit. And what a smile! Your beautiful soul shone through your bright eyes. You brought joy to my days, Andrea. I will truly miss you. xo

Andrea: You possessed an indomitable spirit and a dedication to that which is good and right. I am better for knowing you. I learned from you that we should challenge our bias and preconceived view of a patients' destiny. From you i witnessed resilience, independence and a lust to live. Godspeed Andrea!

How many lives were touched by the caring and capable hands of Dr. O? I miss her sense of humor, her sharp observations, and her way of being so present and genuine. Not everyone gets to have an aunt like Andrea, and I'm grateful that I did.

I miss you every moment of every day and night, but I am so grateful you were in my life, and I was in yours. I'll never forget the time we had together and the beautiful family we created, that will live on long after us, as your legacy.
I love you always,
Richard

Andrea was always giving and thoughtful. She touched many lives including my own. It was a blessing knowing her and she will be deeply missed.

With love,
Doris and Michael

My darling,
I miss you every minute of every day. I miss your sense of humor, your indomitable spirit, your energy, your optimism, your honesty -- but most of all your boundless and universal compassion. Every minute of every day, you cared for everyone else, more than you cared for yourself. You are my inspiration. Though I'll never, ever even approach your level, because of you, I will always try.
I love you forever,
Richard

Still very hard for me to believe you are gone. Having been your caregiver for some substantial amount of time, you had a special place in my heart. Memories of you will forever be treasured.Rest in perfect peace.