NOTE: You can leave your own remembrance of Ralph Davila in the comments box at the end of this post.

by Ramsay Davila

A few days ago, with his kids surrounding him and my hand on his chest, I felt my dad‘s heart stop beating. He had been in the hospital for about a month, we tried everything possible to get him home to see my mom before she passed but unfortunately he didn’t make it in time.

A few days later he went on hospice. We brought him home, put him in the same place by the window, in the same bed my mother had died a few days earlier. He didn’t wanted to live in a world without his wife. Eight days apart from her was long enough for him.

As a kid, my dad was passed around from family to family, boarding school to boarding school, and was never shown much love. He overcame a very difficult childhood to become one of the most beloved people I’ve ever met. It’s hard for me to understand that someone who was showed such little love as a kid could learn to possess so much love for his own children.

He was constantly changing, learning, evolving to be a better person. He was the softball pitcher, grill master, the unofficial mayor of Melrose, the tickle monster, a burner, a mountain biker, a cab driver, a student of life, an amazing father, and husband to his wife of 52 years. You will be missed by many, pop.

NOTE: you can leave your own remembrance in the comment box at the end of this post

by Ramsay Davila

My Mom had been battling cancer for a number of years now. Her journey with cancer can only be described as utterly graceful. Somehow, she escaped the pain and suffering that goes along with this horrible disease.

Most people aren’t aware that my mom had this amazing ability and strength to be there for people in their dying days. A number of people died in my house as a child, people who are sick and needed support. Other times she would fly across country to be with people who are alone, people who she hadn’t seen in years and years. I always thought my mom was doing this because she had some sort of fear of dying alone, and she was trying to use karma to head your bets. I was completely wrong. My mom is not afraid of death. She chose to discontinue cancer treatments, even though they could’ve extended her life. She had seen so many friends struggle with different cancer treatments and decided she wanted nothing to do with it. My mom is karma was to not die alone, but die without pain and suffering with the most grace I ever thought imaginable. She was with her kids at her passing.

My mom‘s name Luzita, translates to “little light”. That could not be more of an understatement. There was nothing little about the light my mom brought. She brought warmth and comfort to everyone around her. She was an amazing mother and wife to dad of 52 years. We lost a good egg. You’ll be missed, mom.

By Halimah Collingwood

For nearly 60 years, Luzita Davila and I were the best of friends. We met in the music scene of the Bay Area in the mid-1960s. She was this happy, smiling, friendly genuine spark of Life that was at every music concert, party or gathering where she would light up the room. My boyfriend at the time and I moved in with her in a tiny funky one-bedroom house in Larkspur, a small town in Marin County. She always had her friends from Santa Cruz visiting and going to, you guessed it, parties. When it was just the two of us living in the house, we were like sisters of the Spirit, ready to be on the go…somewhere.

I had already joined Subud when we met and when a job took her to New York City, I knew she was going to need something to keep her sane. I gave her the phone number of a helper I knew there and soon she was an applicant. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her after she was opened. She came to visit me on my houseboat in Sausalito. I went to the door at her knock, threw it open and there was this Light in front of me – her smile was so bright, her eyes twinkling and I fell in love with her all over again. My feelings were so deep, I knew that I would die for her to save her life.

We met up again in 1970 at Skymont just before Bapak’s visit. She was dating Ralph and they became a couple while there. I went to Indonesia after Bapak left and then the UK, but we continued to write (real letters) and keep abreast of the happenings of our lives.

I wasn’t able to attend her double wedding with the MacNeils at Skymont but I was there for their first child’s birth. My dear Godson, Hartwell, was born in their tiny cabin in September of 1971, surrounded by her Subud sisters and her Subud midwife. I distinctly remember Ann Holiday saying after two hours of pushing, “If you don’t have your baby now, I’m going to take you to the hospital.” He popped out shortly after that!!

In 1983 when my family moved from the UK to the US, we stayed with Ralph and Luzita for 10 days while we decided where to go to find our new home. My sons, three and five, who had lived their first years in a village of 100 people in Scotland without any nearby friends, were overjoyed to be living with four Davila children and with the many Gleeson kids next door. Our lives were bound together forever.

When Luzita was a National Helper, she traveled around the country, making close friends wherever she went. Everyone loved her. She was everyone’s best friend. I remember going to Subud meetings and gatherings and spending very little time with her because she had to catch up with this lady or have lunch with someone else. I once told her that I was jealous because she never made a point to be with me. She was surprised because we were so close that she thought we’d always be there together. Ever after that she was conscientious to spend time with me at each event.

Over the years, Luzita helped many women transition to their new life, giving her all to those people she loved and who deeply loved her. I once told her I wanted her to be my death doula when it was my time. Little did I know that it would be me who was one of her close friends at her side to say good-bye.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day!”

by Lianne Card

Our brother Robert Goonetilleke passed on Sept. 17, 2022 just after a visit to Santa Cruz from his home in Sri Lanka. A longtime member of the Santa Cruz group, he came to visit his sons Harendra and Ramesh and his grandchildren but while here was diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer, returned home immediately, and died three weeks later.

Robert was born in Sri Lanka March 23, 1937 and was opened in the early days when Subud first came to Colombo. Robert’s rich and colorful accounts of the visits with Bapak and his helpers can be read on the Subud Colombo website https://subudsrilanka-en.blogspot.com. Click on the “Robert’s Memoirs” tab of the pull down menu to read Robert’s writings.

Robert was born to a landed family during the time when Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) was still a British colony. Ridwan Fleisher was once asked by Robert to clarify his lineage. Robert wanted to assert that his family were farmers, not aristocrats and said, “My Grandpa was a Queen’s counsel who fell out with the British.” Although Robert denied that he was upper class, Ridwan remembers that he had once commented that he had grown up riding horses with his father on the family property and, when they went on vacation, his father would rent a train car for the horses.

When Robert grew up he went to work at a remote governmental electronics installation and was motivated to learn to cook for himself. “Robert’s golden rule of seasoning” that his Grandmother passed on to him was : “Seasoning’s must be balanced with great care so that none stands out from the others.”  Many members of Subud Santa Cruz remember sharing many meals with Robert, both ones he cooked and meals at Sri Lankan and Thai restaurants.

Robert was one of the youngest members opened in the famed Colombo group that Varindra Vittachi wrote about in A Reporter in Subud. Robert emigrated to the USA and was a member of the Santa Cruz group when there were many young families. Besides Subud, Robert loved soccer. He played whenever he could and served as a coach for local teams for many years. He was very proud that his love of soccer has persisted in his family because his granddaughter now plays in a highly rated league. Robert also appreciated American football and enjoyed watching NFL games on a large screen with Gregory Tarsy and others. He was always up on all the players and their statistics.

Robert was a dedicated and committed member of Subud Santa Cruz. Under his leadership the “men’s hall” was enlarged to almost twice its original size. When Subud Santa Cruz hosted Bapak and grandchildren in 1975, the group chose a redwood tree for Bapak to plant. Robert and Rachmat Martin assisted Bapak in the planting of the redwood.  Symbolizing strength and longevity, the very tall tree still presides at the edge of the incoming driveway.

Robert served as a center helper and later as an International Helper when he returned to live in Sri Lanka. He was able to share a deep insight and wisdom in person and through his writings.

At the Santa Cruz house, we have framed a statement from Robert. Here is an exerpt from that statement: “We enter this world with nothing and must leave with nothing, the departure is known onto to Almighty God and none is exempt from this reality…Above all my Brothers and Sisters do not neglect the Latihan, for the spark that you once received at your opening is the light that must guide you when you leave this world. May the Grace of the Almighty be with you always.”

Please share your own remembrances of Robert Goonetilleke. Find the Comment box following this post (below “Leave a Reply”).

Jeff Blackburn, of the Santa Cruz Subud Center, passed away in January. Here is an excerpt of an article published in Neil Young News:

“Guitarist and songwriter Jeffrey Reid “Jeff” Blackburn died January 5, aged 77. Blackburn started out in California in the early 1960s as part of folk duo Blackburn & Snow, who released a few singles, and later played in San Francisco-based psychedelic rock band Moby Grape”, with whose bassist Bob Mosley he then founded the “Jeff Blackburn Band in Santa Cruz.

In the summer of 1977, Neil Young, a friend of Blackburn’s Buffalo Springfield days, joined his band, which also added Johnny Craviotto on drums. The formation changed their name to “The Ducks” and played almost two dozen gigs in local clubs around Santa Cruz from July to September.”

The entire article, which includes photos and many details about Jeff’s life as a musician, is available HERE.

To add your own remembrances of Jeff, please use the Comment box below, under “Leave a Reply.”

Maya Clemes passed away on Saturday, January 8, 2022, at the age of 92. She and her husband Harris were active members of Subud California for many years, at both the Santa Cruz and Palo Alto Centers. More recently, she has been living in Portland.

Her son, Jeff Clemes provides the following details on her passing:

“As many of you know, she was in the late stages of Alzheimer’s and had been on hospice care. The caregivers said she died more peacefully than most of their patients.

When my wife and I arrived at her bedside on Saturday morning, shortly under 2 hours after her death, her body was still warm to the touch. After Xiaohong and I said our words, I went into a spiritual practice including a latihan. After finishing, we noticed a change of energy in the room and her body was now cold to the touch. I like to think her spirit is free and doing a dance together with Harris.”

Harris Clemes passed away Thursday, July 29, 2021, peacefully in Portland, Oregon. A SICA memorial to him is available HERE. If you knew Maya or Harris, please do add your own remembrances in the comment box below.