Peggy Pianalto
Kay was a friend and neighbor for over 30 years. We had a good time together. I enjoyed her company. We went out to eat often (she loved Hideaway). In later years I teased her that I only went out to eat with her because I could park in the handicap space.
We liked to drive through neighborhoods critiquing and criticizing houses we saw. "Did they really put THOSE two colors together?" When I found some cool little area or house, I'd go pick her up and take her to see it.
We drove around looking at Christmas lights. I took her to Chandler Park once.
We spent hours sitting outside visiting on both front and back porches. We'd monitor the neighborhood and share our speculations on what we thought was going on. Kay came up with these really detailed and fanciful stories and I'd pop her bubble by saying, "Well, I asked and it's just such-and-such." She'd reply, "Boy, was I off", and laugh.
Kay was the second person I met when I moved in to the neighborhood 30 years ago. Ken was the first. I was there with her when he died.
I was shocked when I learned that Kay was the mother of a pair of sibling teens whom I knew from my days as a waitress at My Pie Pizza so I've known them longer than I knew Kay. Tulsa truly is a small town.
When Kay and I moved into the neighborhood, there were 3 or 4 neighborhood matriarchs. A few years ago I suddenly realized that Kay and I had become the neighborhood matriarchs. Now I'm the only one. I miss her terribly.
