I'll start with the sad news. I would be surprised if you remember this, but many years ago, I wrote about our friend David, who had been diagnosed with leukemia, and asked for your prayers. He quickly went into remission, but his doctors predicted that if the leukemia came back, which it most likely would, the second time around it would be virtually untreatable. They advised he have a bone marrow transplant, which he did.
In the four years since then, David's health has been spotty. He had some good months, but they always seemed to be followed by bad months. He spent a lot of time in the hospital. He went on disability because he could no longer work. And through it all, he remained his cheerful, witty, generous self.
David died on Tuesday. He was home, in hospice care, surrounded by loved ones. The day before, the Man delivered the quilt pictured above. I'd hurried to make it and hoped against hope that it would get months, if not years. of use. It got a day.
We are heartbroken at the loss of our dear friend. David was one of the Man's best friends. They met their first day of college, back in 1984. They traveled together, drank together, played music together, philosophized together, and mostly laughed together. I met David in 1991; he was one of the first of his friends the Man introduced me to. We hit it off immediately and have been friends ever since.
Here's one thing I know for sure: "why" is not a very useful question at times like these. David was among the best of men. He was beloved wherever he went, because he always saw the best in people, always made you feel special, smart, better than you actually were. We need more Davids, not fewer.
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Now, onto happier tales ...
Here's Will on the first day of school. He's so big! He started 7th grade on Tuesday and seems happy with everything so far. This morning when I dropped him off, I saw a group of his friends--Ashaank and Henry, Win, Jackson and Jack--all these boys who are in the process of morphing into men. They're stretching out. Their faces are a little strange. They have acne and hair on their legs and it won't be long until they get little wispy moustaches. I'm not sure I'm ready, although I've been through it once with Jack.
Jack is at an age where his face is settling into place. He looks good. He and his long distance girlfriend are persevering. The Man and I have been good about not saying, "It probably won't last." It probably won't, but why spoil it?
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It's been nice have long stretches to myself every day. I've been writing and getting organized, taking advantage of all this back-to-school energy. It won't last, but while it does, I'll work on updating my calendar and putting things into folders and making appointments, etc. etc.
This weekend I hope to get back to my book on architecture. I have two other books on the pile about houses and architecture--A Pattern Language by Christopher Alexander and The Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard. "I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming," Bachelard wrote, "the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.”
Alexander wrote, "To work our way towards a shared language once again, we must first learn how to discover patterns, which are deep, and capable of generating life."
I love looking for patterns. I think our brains are designed to seek patterns and to find them hugely satisfying.
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Will and I have been watching "Love It or List It" on HGTV. Have you ever watched this? People who are unsatisfied their houses get them renovated while at the same time looking for a new house. At the end of each episode, they decide whether they want to stay in their newly renovated home or buy one of the new homes they've been shown (and therefore list their old home). They almost always want to stay in their renovated home, even when they've been shown a house that's superior in every way. This doesn't surprise me, but often the shows end with me and Will moaning and groaning at their decision. It's fun.
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It's Friday night. I'm going to sleep in until 7:30 tomorrow! I can't wait. Have a good weekend!
5 comments:
I'm so sorry to hear about your friend, David. God bless all those memories that you have of spending time with him. The quilt is such a gift of love.
Time flies when boys turn into men.
I like Love It or List It!
I am so sorry for your loss, Frances.
The architecture book isn't resonating with me. I guess I am more interested in interiors than exteriors. Also I am reading too many books at once and my brain's tired.
Yay for a 7:30 sleep in!
I'm so sorry to hear about David, Frances. Losing people you love is just so devastating. You're right - "why" isn't a good or helpful question, because the answer isn't helpful when the loss is fresh. I hope that your season of grief is peppered with beautiful memories that make you smile through the tears.
I have just come to the end of the first Saturday in a very long time where I have sat and read. I probably should've headed back to work to deal with the marking I left undone on Friday, but I'm feeling a little battle-weary and the solitude was what I needed more. I must confess to longing for a day here and there of peace and the mental wherewithal to deal with cleaning my house. The idea of sending children to school and then returning to a peaceful home....longing. Not likely to get it for a long time now. I think I need a weekend retreat soon.
May God comfort those who mourn - praying especially for Becky and the family, and also for The Man. It is always hard to lose a dear friend who has been part of one's life for so long, and shared many special moments. Your quilt was a wonderful gift, and even in his final hours on earth, he will have felt its warmth, and the warmth of the love it represents.
"The memory of the just is blessed" says the Psalmist.
How tall your son has grown! Enjoy these days with the boys - they fly the nest all too quickly.
I haven't watched "love it or list it" Is yours the Canadian version or the British one? [I couldn't watch the UK one as Kirstie, the presenter, irritates me too much]
Blessings xx
So very glad you posted for Friday, as was your intent.
Your young man looks happy. He must also have been apprehensive. A trying time in the young one''s life.
Patterns. When I take an afternoon rest and all is quiet save for the humming of my nearby little fan, I swear I can hear a radio sending out a talk radio show and have even gotten up to turn off my husband's radio in his office only to find the device not even turned on, but the house quiet. Puzzling about this, my husband says the brain tries to find patterns and the small whirring of the little fan by the bedside likely assists in my brain trying to find a pattern for the noise, and I conjure up talk radio. An interesting thought. Wonder if there is research on that.
Glad you are researching architecture and know you will come up with grand ideas.
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