“Why there you are, Stephen,' cried Jack. 'You are come home, I find.' That is true,' said Stephen with an affectionate look: he prized statements of this kind in Jack.” ― Patrick O'Brian, H.M.S. Surprise My dad died Thursday evening right around suppertime. He died near home in his small-town New Hampshire hospital surrounded by caring nurses, after visits with wife, and with my sister’s voice in his ear over the phone. As Covid deaths go, it was as good as it gets. Which is not to say that it was good, or easy. Which is not to say that right now, as I struggle to write this week’s newsletter, I am not weeping.
Dearest Betsy, in this time of so much loss, your words this week are a powerful reminder that every single number in this terrible death toll is a person, one who is precious and needed and loved. As this horrific catastrophe continues to gather steam, it's all too easy to distance ourselves from the sad truth that our country is awash not only in the virus but in grief, each death sending its ripples outward until we are all touched, all grieving, all losing. Your toast to your dad touched my heart. Blessings to you and yours.
Dear Betsy, my deepest sympathies. Your father was bigger than life in my recollections. A powerful and boisterous presence! I have a blur of childhood memories of so many times we were all together, and well recall your preference for words and books, as opposed to the raucous and often unhinged rabble rousing of the rest of the kids! How fortunate you have been to have the lifelong connection with your dad of the love of words. Peace.
soulful and sincere... I love that the first word you sounded out and read was "CAN". How symbolic. How sad. Your January 20 remembrance is courageous... Hug, PJC
Dearest Betsy, in this time of so much loss, your words this week are a powerful reminder that every single number in this terrible death toll is a person, one who is precious and needed and loved. As this horrific catastrophe continues to gather steam, it's all too easy to distance ourselves from the sad truth that our country is awash not only in the virus but in grief, each death sending its ripples outward until we are all touched, all grieving, all losing. Your toast to your dad touched my heart. Blessings to you and yours.
This is so beautiful.
I'm so sorry Betsy. Too much sadness, but there is hope and laughter and love ahead of us. Hang in there.
I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your dad to Covid. My thoughts are with you and your family.
Betsy tears in my eyes reading this. Beautifully said about your Dad and all of it. Healing thoughts and arms around. Miki
So sorry to hear your sad news. What a lovely tribute to your Dad.
Dear Betsy, my deepest sympathies. Your father was bigger than life in my recollections. A powerful and boisterous presence! I have a blur of childhood memories of so many times we were all together, and well recall your preference for words and books, as opposed to the raucous and often unhinged rabble rousing of the rest of the kids! How fortunate you have been to have the lifelong connection with your dad of the love of words. Peace.
soulful and sincere... I love that the first word you sounded out and read was "CAN". How symbolic. How sad. Your January 20 remembrance is courageous... Hug, PJC
My most sincere condolences, Betsy. What an utterly beautiful photograph of your father and Rina. Thank you for Spark.