Last night I lost a friend. A friend I never thought I'd lose. Someone as full of passion and fight and purpose is never supposed to leave. Teresa Pasquini called me this afternoon to let me know that Rose King passed away while undergoing emergency surgery. This is not supposed to happen. By my best estimate, Rose was around 82. The last time I saw her was January 16, 2014. We met for lunch and I wrote about our meeting in Sooner Than Tomorrow.
Rose was a giant (too small a word) in California mental health politics. She co-authored the 2004 Proposition 63 Act to fund mental health services for the seriously mentally ill. Or so she thought. Disappointed in its implementation, she turned around to become one of its fiercest critics saying that it needed more oversight, that it was losing focus, and it was being diluted from its original purpose. This was not kosher. Political interests began to take umbrage at Rose and her challenging the system. Again.
Rose lost her husband when she was a young mother of three children. He killed himself in their home. Later her son would take his life at approximately the same age that his father had taken his. In her 70s, Rose supported two grandsons stricken with the family illness. Then a grandson, well and thriving, died by electric shock while working on a construction job.
How much can one person take?
From Sooner Than Tomorrow:
January 16, 2014: Rose.
My friend Rose and I are meeting for lunch. She's 75 and such a trooper. She's still fighting the exhaustive fight for a competent mental health system. She's one of three co-authors of California's Prop 63, the Mental Health Services Act.
Disappointed in its implementation, Rose lobbied for an audit by the California State Auditor. The auditor reported that it wasn't possible to determine whether Prop 63 programs had been of benefit to those served, had improved community mental health delivery, or whether programs had complied with the requirements of the law.
In addition to the appalling number of untreated mentally ill, Rose, based on her continuing research, believes eighty percent of those in the system are not receiving adequate care. "Parity, she says, "we still don't have parity for physical and mental health."
Rose's husband and son always come up in our conversations. They both ended their struggle with mental illness by suicide. Two grandsons -- one is living with her -- also deal with the illness. We agree. If all the parents and grandparents housing their mentally ill children and grandchildren were to dump them on the street, there'd be major socio-economic fallout. Our health and welfare programs would be more overwhelmed than then already are. These family members, who've given up on the mental health system, are a hidden, unappreciated population.
We change the subject. We talk about Rose's 75th birthday party. We talk about my mother, my children, and grandchildren. We try to talk about everyday things like average folks. We hug goodbye and remind each other, "Take care of yourself."
Goodbye dear Rose. Take care of yourself, finally, and rest in peace. I love you, forever. Dede.
