http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/ It's all about taking time to seek out a better way, while exploring the less traveled side roads along the path . . . Fri, 29 Aug 2008 22:50:28 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.3.3 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1384 Finding Direction: The Wind Vane Chronicles » Blog Archive » Resting Here Until Day Breaks . . . Mon, 30 Oct 2006 16:47:31 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1384 [...] October 30th, 2006 at 11:47 am by Dee O'Neil Andrews "Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappears is Quanah Parker, the last Chief of the Comanches" (On the tombstone of Chief Quanah Parker, Ft. Sill, Oklahoma.) Today I tell a poignant, but ultimately uplifting story from American history and tie it to my own.  More specifically about Texas and Oklahoma history and Chief Quanah Parker, to whom I may even be kin. I wrote a few weeks ago about death and eulogies and epitaphs that I called "Journey to a Far Shore."  Remember?  In the post in which I said I was not trying to be morbid (which I wasn't and am not today), I compared death to sailing off into the sunset toward a lighthouse across the short way whose beacon guides us home.I talked about all of the loving voices from our family and friends calling out to us in the growing darkness across the water also helping to guide us home.As fate would have it and as life unfolds ever surprisingly, both good and bad, it wasn't but a few days after that when I went into the hospital in Durango, Colorado with multiple immediate life threatening problems beginning with acute kidney failure and I thought about what I had written.But something seemed lacking.  I've also mentioned over the past three or four months that Tom and I recently made wills, signed health care directives and powers of attorney and talked with each of our children at length about life, death, values and beliefs.  We talked about worldy possesions and eternal destinies.  We talked about plans to have a headstone carved now to put on our graves for the time when we shall lie next to Tom's dad in the Old Biloxi cemetery under the majestic live oaks.Something still seemed lacking.Then providence intervened, as it so often does, and I discovered the missing pieces.  They are some of the words above that Tom and I want engraved on our headstone and it's an interesting story about how we found them and why we want to use them.We were on our "Route 66" road trip coming home across the panhandle of Texas when we saw a most unusual rest area on I-40 east of Amarillo.  It was on the other side of the interstate for people headed the other way, but we were so intrigued we drove to the next exit and turned around to come back to it.It was a huge manmade hill built in the middle of the flat prairie.  Its center was cut through front to back and composed of high glass walls with a ceiling soaring above.  Outside rose a giganitic wind turbine while inside an old windmill spun slowly under the power of an electric motor.  Numerous displays told the story of the "old west" beginning with the Spanish conquistedors who came up through what is now Texas looking for gold in the early 1500s.  When they got there they found no gold, but countless clans of native American pueblo dwellers and other clans of nomads roaming the vast prairies hunting buffalo for sustenance.  One such group was composed of many smaller clans, all tribes of the Comanches.  They lived and roamed across northern Texas and Oklahoma.They were warrior tribes in many ways, but mostly after being hunted down and killed by the white man who later came to take over their lands.  In truth, they were a peace loving at heart and had great families.In 1836 a young white girl of about 9 who lived in West Texas, Cynthia Ann Parker, was captured along with two other children by a Comanche raiding party.  She became part of the Comanche culture, part of a loving family, forgot the English language and never was fully integrated into the white world again.Her story is a sad one.  She died heartbroken at 43 after being forcefully taken back to her white family 25 years after her capture.  She'd just  learned of the death of three of her children by her Comanche husband  from influenza.  She'd cut her hair short - the Comanche way of showing grief - and mourned.  There is a a last picture of her, thus, with her baby daughter, Prairie Flower, at her breast. But her life was also filled with goodness.  The blue eyed girl had married a Comanche chief, Peta Nocona and had children the lived, the oldest being Quanah Parker, who became the last great chief of all the Comanche tribes, beginning with his own, the Quahadi tribe.  He never lost a battle against the white man and later worked with them, even journeying to Washington, D. C. to bring about peace between his people and theirs.  Quanah Parker (check out each link to different photos and interesting facts about Quanah) provided forceful leaderhip and supported education, ranching and farming as a new way of life for the Comanches.  In 1905, Parker even rode next to Geronimo in Theodore Roosevelt's inaugural parade.  He could not read, but spoke three languages, English, Spanish and Indian, and moved with ease between his mother's and his father's peoples.  He educated his children among the white man so that they would be prepaerd in the early 20th century for their lives to come lived nearly exclusivly among white men.Quanah Parker (read especially this last link which vividly describes Quanah's life achievements, family life and death) died on February 21, 1911 at  age 63 when his great heart went out and was interred next to his mother's grave, which he had just recently moved from Texas to Oklahoma to be near him and the people who had become hers and who she loved.  Their graves had to be moved a couple of times later, but with honor and are now at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma.According to the rest area displayout near Amarillo, Quanah Parker's grave reads:  "Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappears is Quanah Parker, the last chief of the Comanches."  I loved that and copied it down on a post a note that I have here on my big wooden desk.You see, my own heritiage and ancestry includes my great-grandmother on my dad's side who was native American from either Texas or Oklahoma, I'm not sure which, or maybe even Georgia.  My  great-grandmother on my mother's side (see this post) taught school in the late 1800s in Oklahoma Indian territory before it became our 46th state in 1907.  Tom is part Cherokee, as well, some of whom were in Mississippi, and his heritage shows.  While I tan easily, even when I'm at my darkest, I'm ligther than Tom whose skins quickly turns Indian brown. So we wish to have the words of the great chief Quanah Parker on our tombstone as well.  I now think of them every night when I go to sleep along with "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray Thee Lord my soul to keep.  If I should die before I wake, I pray Thee Lord my soul to take.  If I should live for other days, I pray Thee Lord to guide my ways."  They comfort me with thoughts of momentary peaceful rest until the dawn of an eternal sunrise and the brightest of all tomorrows."Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappers . . ." [...] […] October 30th, 2006 at 11:47 am by Dee O’Neil Andrews "Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappears is Quanah Parker, the last Chief of the Comanches" (On the tombstone of Chief Quanah Parker, Ft. Sill, Oklahoma.) Today I tell a poignant, but ultimately uplifting story from American history and tie it to my own.  More specifically about Texas and Oklahoma history and Chief Quanah Parker, to whom I may even be kin. I wrote a few weeks ago about death and eulogies and epitaphs that I called "Journey to a Far Shore."  Remember?  In the post in which I said I was not trying to be morbid (which I wasn’t and am not today), I compared death to sailing off into the sunset toward a lighthouse across the short way whose beacon guides us home.I talked about all of the loving voices from our family and friends calling out to us in the growing darkness across the water also helping to guide us home.As fate would have it and as life unfolds ever surprisingly, both good and bad, it wasn’t but a few days after that when I went into the hospital in Durango, Colorado with multiple immediate life threatening problems beginning with acute kidney failure and I thought about what I had written.But something seemed lacking.  I’ve also mentioned over the past three or four months that Tom and I recently made wills, signed health care directives and powers of attorney and talked with each of our children at length about life, death, values and beliefs.  We talked about worldy possesions and eternal destinies.  We talked about plans to have a headstone carved now to put on our graves for the time when we shall lie next to Tom’s dad in the Old Biloxi cemetery under the majestic live oaks.Something still seemed lacking.Then providence intervened, as it so often does, and I discovered the missing pieces.  They are some of the words above that Tom and I want engraved on our headstone and it’s an interesting story about how we found them and why we want to use them.We were on our "Route 66" road trip coming home across the panhandle of Texas when we saw a most unusual rest area on I-40 east of Amarillo.  It was on the other side of the interstate for people headed the other way, but we were so intrigued we drove to the next exit and turned around to come back to it.It was a huge manmade hill built in the middle of the flat prairie.  Its center was cut through front to back and composed of high glass walls with a ceiling soaring above.  Outside rose a giganitic wind turbine while inside an old windmill spun slowly under the power of an electric motor.  Numerous displays told the story of the "old west" beginning with the Spanish conquistedors who came up through what is now Texas looking for gold in the early 1500s.  When they got there they found no gold, but countless clans of native American pueblo dwellers and other clans of nomads roaming the vast prairies hunting buffalo for sustenance.  One such group was composed of many smaller clans, all tribes of the Comanches.  They lived and roamed across northern Texas and Oklahoma.They were warrior tribes in many ways, but mostly after being hunted down and killed by the white man who later came to take over their lands.  In truth, they were a peace loving at heart and had great families.In 1836 a young white girl of about 9 who lived in West Texas, Cynthia Ann Parker, was captured along with two other children by a Comanche raiding party.  She became part of the Comanche culture, part of a loving family, forgot the English language and never was fully integrated into the white world again.Her story is a sad one.  She died heartbroken at 43 after being forcefully taken back to her white family 25 years after her capture.  She’d just  learned of the death of three of her children by her Comanche husband  from influenza.  She’d cut her hair short - the Comanche way of showing grief - and mourned.  There is a a last picture of her, thus, with her baby daughter, Prairie Flower, at her breast. But her life was also filled with goodness.  The blue eyed girl had married a Comanche chief, Peta Nocona and had children the lived, the oldest being Quanah Parker, who became the last great chief of all the Comanche tribes, beginning with his own, the Quahadi tribe.  He never lost a battle against the white man and later worked with them, even journeying to Washington, D. C. to bring about peace between his people and theirs.  Quanah Parker (check out each link to different photos and interesting facts about Quanah) provided forceful leaderhip and supported education, ranching and farming as a new way of life for the Comanches.  In 1905, Parker even rode next to Geronimo in Theodore Roosevelt’s inaugural parade.  He could not read, but spoke three languages, English, Spanish and Indian, and moved with ease between his mother’s and his father’s peoples.  He educated his children among the white man so that they would be prepaerd in the early 20th century for their lives to come lived nearly exclusivly among white men.Quanah Parker (read especially this last link which vividly describes Quanah’s life achievements, family life and death) died on February 21, 1911 at  age 63 when his great heart went out and was interred next to his mother’s grave, which he had just recently moved from Texas to Oklahoma to be near him and the people who had become hers and who she loved.  Their graves had to be moved a couple of times later, but with honor and are now at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma.According to the rest area displayout near Amarillo, Quanah Parker’s grave reads:  "Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappears is Quanah Parker, the last chief of the Comanches."  I loved that and copied it down on a post a note that I have here on my big wooden desk.You see, my own heritiage and ancestry includes my great-grandmother on my dad’s side who was native American from either Texas or Oklahoma, I’m not sure which, or maybe even Georgia.  My  great-grandmother on my mother’s side (see this post) taught school in the late 1800s in Oklahoma Indian territory before it became our 46th state in 1907.  Tom is part Cherokee, as well, some of whom were in Mississippi, and his heritage shows.  While I tan easily, even when I’m at my darkest, I’m ligther than Tom whose skins quickly turns Indian brown. So we wish to have the words of the great chief Quanah Parker on our tombstone as well.  I now think of them every night when I go to sleep along with "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray Thee Lord my soul to keep.  If I should die before I wake, I pray Thee Lord my soul to take.  If I should live for other days, I pray Thee Lord to guide my ways."  They comfort me with thoughts of momentary peaceful rest until the dawn of an eternal sunrise and the brightest of all tomorrows."Resting here until day breaks and shadows fall and darkness disappers . . ." […]

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1264 Finding Direction: The Wind Vane Chronicles » Blog Archive » “Dream as if You’ll Live Forever, Live as if You’ll Die Today” Wed, 04 Oct 2006 15:04:00 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1264 [...] "Dream as if you'll live foreve, live as if you'll die today."  - James DeanI find that quote on a poster of James Dean at Clines' Corners Souvenir/Tourist/Gas Station/Diner place (and a real sight to behold, let me tell you) on old Route 66 (now Interstate 40) smack dab in the middle of New Mexico Sunday morning and nearly bought the poster because I like the quote so much.But as Tom pointed out (and as you might guess), we have lots of tastefully framed artwork posters and prints of all kinds and really don't have room or a place for another one, even if it is James Dean.He was only 23 when he died in his Porsche convertible doing about 90 mph on a central California highway on September 30, 1965 so he died "before his time," as we'd say, as I wrote in the reflective piece "An Uncommon Love Found in 'This Hallowed Ground'" over at Grace Notes back awhile.  (BTW, I'm moving Grace Notes to its own new website soon, so watch for that.)  Yet, he seemed to me a young man full of years in wisdom to have said such a thing and he certainly lived that way.I've read a couple of extensive biographies about his life and he lived it fully and completely in his short 23 years.  I've lived much longer than that, myself, but try to live the exact same way and think that I do.  You've heard me say (well, read) many times that I face death with no fear.  In fact, just a couple of days before we left on our trip, if you'll remember, I wrote about death and my epitah and eulogy in "Journey to a Far Shore."I don't know how much you reflect upon your own mortality, nor do I think I dwell on mine.  Yet, somehow through all of my sufferings and my journey, God has gently led me to a place where I never expected to be in my younger years - a very safe place full or warmth and hope.  When the  upset and surprised ICU doctor read my blood test results and gravely reported them to me, I was not afraid, just surprised.  Somehow it was not one of those profound moments in the sense that you suddenly realize your own mortality and are stunned beyond belief.  Instead, I tried to figure out if I could stay around for just a bit longer to see what surprises would come next.  (Besides, I was thinking of poor Tom over there at the nearby motel unknowingly getting ready for bed while I was in dire straits.  As he later joked when I said I was glad I was still alive, "yeah, it would have made the trip home rather a big downer and terribly boring without you, as well, so I'm glad you're here, too."  I mean, how can I not laugh with such a man who loves me so much as to be cheery I'm alive and with him!)Speaking of that - (you know how my mind wanders) - every one of the nurses and doctors found our relationship (Tom's and mine) totally delightful and all said it was obvious we were totally devoted to each other and truly a single unit together in every way.  That was a high compliment I felt and was happy to hear that our joy with each other shows so much.Which further reminds me - I have to tell you the funniest moment of our entire trip because it has to do with Tom and me.  On Thursday, after I'd been in ICU for 2 days and was feeling much better and rather "holding court," Tom was out wandering around Durango having fun and eating lots of great food and doing some souvenir shopping as a somewhat non-typical tourist, considering the circumstances.As I say, I was the life of the ICU because they were down to 2 patients, and the other lady was across the way and sleeping all the time, although supposedly getting better.  So the action was all in my big room with the big patio sized double window door (curtains could be pulled across for privacy) and everyone hung around over there because I was regaling them with stories and laughter.Toward the middle of the afternoon, I got very sleepy because I was rather tired out from the ordeal - lack of oxygen, lack of red blood cells and all, so I took a nap.  When I woke up, I sat up on the bed and  wondered where Tom was and so called him on my cell phone.  He quickly answered and I could hear voices all around him.  About that time my curtains in front of my glass door opened and there he was with some nurses and staff in tow.  They pushed my curtains back, glad to see me and that I was up, again, and he said, "I have a surprise for you.  I brought you something."I was very excited to be getting a souvenier and he handed me a navy blue folded up T-shirt.  I thought - oh cool - a T-shirt from Durango.  Well, that's not exactly what it was.  Everyone watched as I quickly unfolded it and held it up to see, waiting with anticipation.  It was the funniest shirt you can imagine.  Here's what it said:GOT OXYGEN? Colorado Rockies.Just like the "Got Milk?" commercials!  Isn't that the perfect shirt for my trip and experiences?!  We told the staff they ought to go buy some to pass out to all their "altitude sickness" patients, and apparently they have a lot of them.  A lot.I may add James Dean's quote to my blog page here somewhere, what do you think?  (Tell me in comment, please.)  I mean - how else can and should one live than to dream as if you'll live forever (which, if you stop to think about it, we all will and do) and live as if you'll die today (which I'm always reminding each and every one of you is a very real possibility).  All we have, my dear friends, is today.  This is it.  Right now this minute.Make the most of your life as God's child sharing God's love and goodness with all you come in contact with today.  Whether in person, on the phone, in your blog, in your work, when grocery shopping, when at home.  LOVE everyone and let them know about GOD'S LOVE.Write to me.  Comment.  Cheers for today!  Dee P. S.  Stay tuned because I've got a bunch more really good stories from my hospital stay and our trip.  We had such a great time.  It was so much fun.  Especially with me along for the ride home, Tom thinks!  Gotta love him! [...] […] "Dream as if you’ll live foreve, live as if you’ll die today."  - James DeanI find that quote on a poster of James Dean at Clines’ Corners Souvenir/Tourist/Gas Station/Diner place (and a real sight to behold, let me tell you) on old Route 66 (now Interstate 40) smack dab in the middle of New Mexico Sunday morning and nearly bought the poster because I like the quote so much.But as Tom pointed out (and as you might guess), we have lots of tastefully framed artwork posters and prints of all kinds and really don’t have room or a place for another one, even if it is James Dean.He was only 23 when he died in his Porsche convertible doing about 90 mph on a central California highway on September 30, 1965 so he died "before his time," as we’d say, as I wrote in the reflective piece "An Uncommon Love Found in ‘This Hallowed Ground’" over at Grace Notes back awhile.  (BTW, I’m moving Grace Notes to its own new website soon, so watch for that.)  Yet, he seemed to me a young man full of years in wisdom to have said such a thing and he certainly lived that way.I’ve read a couple of extensive biographies about his life and he lived it fully and completely in his short 23 years.  I’ve lived much longer than that, myself, but try to live the exact same way and think that I do.  You’ve heard me say (well, read) many times that I face death with no fear.  In fact, just a couple of days before we left on our trip, if you’ll remember, I wrote about death and my epitah and eulogy in "Journey to a Far Shore."I don’t know how much you reflect upon your own mortality, nor do I think I dwell on mine.  Yet, somehow through all of my sufferings and my journey, God has gently led me to a place where I never expected to be in my younger years - a very safe place full or warmth and hope.  When the  upset and surprised ICU doctor read my blood test results and gravely reported them to me, I was not afraid, just surprised.  Somehow it was not one of those profound moments in the sense that you suddenly realize your own mortality and are stunned beyond belief.  Instead, I tried to figure out if I could stay around for just a bit longer to see what surprises would come next.  (Besides, I was thinking of poor Tom over there at the nearby motel unknowingly getting ready for bed while I was in dire straits.  As he later joked when I said I was glad I was still alive, "yeah, it would have made the trip home rather a big downer and terribly boring without you, as well, so I’m glad you’re here, too."  I mean, how can I not laugh with such a man who loves me so much as to be cheery I’m alive and with him!)Speaking of that - (you know how my mind wanders) - every one of the nurses and doctors found our relationship (Tom’s and mine) totally delightful and all said it was obvious we were totally devoted to each other and truly a single unit together in every way.  That was a high compliment I felt and was happy to hear that our joy with each other shows so much.Which further reminds me - I have to tell you the funniest moment of our entire trip because it has to do with Tom and me.  On Thursday, after I’d been in ICU for 2 days and was feeling much better and rather "holding court," Tom was out wandering around Durango having fun and eating lots of great food and doing some souvenir shopping as a somewhat non-typical tourist, considering the circumstances.As I say, I was the life of the ICU because they were down to 2 patients, and the other lady was across the way and sleeping all the time, although supposedly getting better.  So the action was all in my big room with the big patio sized double window door (curtains could be pulled across for privacy) and everyone hung around over there because I was regaling them with stories and laughter.Toward the middle of the afternoon, I got very sleepy because I was rather tired out from the ordeal - lack of oxygen, lack of red blood cells and all, so I took a nap.  When I woke up, I sat up on the bed and  wondered where Tom was and so called him on my cell phone.  He quickly answered and I could hear voices all around him.  About that time my curtains in front of my glass door opened and there he was with some nurses and staff in tow.  They pushed my curtains back, glad to see me and that I was up, again, and he said, "I have a surprise for you.  I brought you something."I was very excited to be getting a souvenier and he handed me a navy blue folded up T-shirt.  I thought - oh cool - a T-shirt from Durango.  Well, that’s not exactly what it was.  Everyone watched as I quickly unfolded it and held it up to see, waiting with anticipation.  It was the funniest shirt you can imagine.  Here’s what it said:GOT OXYGEN? Colorado Rockies.Just like the "Got Milk?" commercials!  Isn’t that the perfect shirt for my trip and experiences?!  We told the staff they ought to go buy some to pass out to all their "altitude sickness" patients, and apparently they have a lot of them.  A lot.I may add James Dean’s quote to my blog page here somewhere, what do you think?  (Tell me in comment, please.)  I mean - how else can and should one live than to dream as if you’ll live forever (which, if you stop to think about it, we all will and do) and live as if you’ll die today (which I’m always reminding each and every one of you is a very real possibility).  All we have, my dear friends, is today.  This is it.  Right now this minute.Make the most of your life as God’s child sharing God’s love and goodness with all you come in contact with today.  Whether in person, on the phone, in your blog, in your work, when grocery shopping, when at home.  LOVE everyone and let them know about GOD’S LOVE.Write to me.  Comment.  Cheers for today!  Dee P. S.  Stay tuned because I’ve got a bunch more really good stories from my hospital stay and our trip.  We had such a great time.  It was so much fun.  Especially with me along for the ride home, Tom thinks!  Gotta love him! […]

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1225 Bobby Valentine Tue, 19 Sep 2006 16:24:24 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1225 Dee I always love reading your blog.  Refreshing as the cool morning air here in WI.  Thank you for being a blessing. Shalom, Bobby Valentine Dee I always love reading your blog.  Refreshing as the cool morning air here in WI.  Thank you for being a blessing.
Shalom,
Bobby Valentine

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1224 Nancy Tue, 19 Sep 2006 03:53:37 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1224 Beautiful. Beautiful.

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1223 Tamie Tue, 19 Sep 2006 02:49:48 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1223 Tear-stained words are always the most beautiful. You paint a beautiful, peaceful picture, Dee.  Tear-stained words are always the most beautiful. You paint a beautiful, peaceful picture, Dee. 

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1221 TCS Mon, 18 Sep 2006 19:24:12 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1221 you say those wonderful words to others as well. you say those wonderful words to others as well.

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1220 Charlie (CandLW Mon, 18 Sep 2006 14:53:11 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1220 Dee  It has been a while since I was able to comeby. What a powerful posting.  Your  words and memories stir up so many emotions. It brought the memories and sweet tears of being with my family andmy Dad as we shared my Mother's final hours.  It was a comforting and yet heart rending to see her fight to show her spirit that had been trapped by a stroke that robbed her ofspeechandtoshe her nod andsay OK as we all toldherGodbye and gave her permission to "go home".   May God go with you and grant you many years more to enrich our lives but whatever comes this is a powerfu l"eulogy" Charlie   Dee  It has been a while since I was able to comeby. What a powerful posting.  Your  words and memories stir up so many emotions.
It brought the memories and sweet tears of being with my family andmy Dad as we shared my Mother’s final hours.  It was a comforting and yet heart rending to see her fight to show her spirit that had been trapped by a stroke that robbed her ofspeechandtoshe her nod andsay OK as we all toldherGodbye and gave her permission to "go home".
 
May God go with you and grant you many years more to enrich our lives but whatever comes this is a powerfu l"eulogy"
Charlie
 

]]> http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1219 Greg England Mon, 18 Sep 2006 05:35:55 +0000 http://deeandrews.net/2006/09/17/journey-to-the-far-shore/#comment-1219 Today was a good day in almost every way ... until I read your blog and then clicked over to the link where you described the death of Tom's daughter. That brought sadness to me, even though a few years after the fact, because of the friendship I feel toward you (and Tom vicariously through you). Those unexpected deaths are the most difficult to process. My heart goes out to you even now. Today was a good day in almost every way … until I read your blog and then clicked over to the link where you described the death of Tom’s daughter. That brought sadness to me, even though a few years after the fact, because of the friendship I feel toward you (and Tom vicariously through you). Those unexpected deaths are the most difficult to process. My heart goes out to you even now.

]]>