Chris Randol

About 10 years ago I volunteered to help with an effort to collect Christmas gifts at the Boulder Shambhala Center to take to the Indian Reservations in South Dakota. During this drive I learned what a force Fran was. She knew all the merchants up and down Pearl St., and was able to talk them into donating an amazing amount of stuff off their retail shelves and inventory. She moved quickly, and my job was to drive around and pick up the goods. She would go to small t-shirt manufacturers on Old East Pearl and procure boxes filled with hundreds of t-shirts or jackets with logos that may have been slightly misprinted, but were brand new. I began to catch on that Fran wasn't messing around, and this was a hard work. We'd store some of the stuff at her apartment at the Senior building on Walnut St across from the Courthouse on 6th. It was a functional building on a spectacular sight. Fran had an unimpeded view across Canyon Blvd to the Flatirons. She was proud and grateful for her low income senior housing apartment with a million dollar view, believing it was her good karma to land so well at this point in her life. And she was pleased that a number of Rinpoche's students lived in the building, calling it her deleg. She liberally shared her strong opinions about her fellow practitioners living there, as well as others who didn't live there. She remained extremely devoted to Trungpa Rinpoche , and the 16th Karmapa. We packed her place with all kinds of things, but she seemed to know exactly what she had and where it was located. What I remember from our conversations while moving boxes was her passing a large mirror in the room and remarking, 'aging plays hell on your vanity', and another time 'getting old is not for sissies.' 10 years later, I understand experientially more what she was saying. Her sense of humor and relaxation about it was refreshing.