Sean

Sean left us late this morning after a swift and unexpected severe infection. He had his son and brothers and Nancy with him. Everything I want to say just comes out in a burble of mess...so I'll use this instead, for now. More coherence soon, but for the moment, thank you W.H. Auden, and thanks to Mike Hurley for finding it first.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.


Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.


He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.


The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

So much of this, losing Sean to death, expresses how I, and I think many of us who loved him, feel. But unlike Mr. Auden, I can say that much will come to good, and that is part of having Sean in my world. He'd be seriously, oh so very seriously, pissed off if we who loved him went  with that last line of thought. Maybe a bit of Tennyson works in here.

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark; 

I can't stop my sadness but it will ebb...and if anything comes from knowing Sean, his passion for life and love rises to the top like sweet cream, to be used accordingly. More anon.

It's all about Sean

I/we recently got an update on Sean from Nancy, who has done a heroic job of keeping many us who feel so very far away closer with news. Since I get asked a lot about how he is doing, I thought I'd dedicate this post to filling everyone in. ☛ I don't think Garrison Keillor has this effect on everyone, but after seeing him speak at a great show in Jacksonville, Sean needed to get to Mayo (the hospital) to deal with a health emergency. It ended up with a lot of unknown issues as in "it could be this or that" The doctors poked and prodded and made their pronouncements. The upshot is that now he is home, ("It's good to be free") on air from a can, which he and Nancy have named Fritz, while different scenarios are being looked at. Personally, I think the bracelet thing is getting over the top, but the colors are good. How do you get a hospital to issue port and starboard colors?? Only Sean...

So their Valentine's Day was spent in hospital. Yes, it sounds and was a tough moment in a series of them, and it wasn't at all a party, but look at our stud muffin and his chica! I traded this photo for some palm fronds from here, which I'll be sending on Monday, to get Sean back to making birds, fish and the whirly gigs he makes with them (can we get a bowl? a hat?). I think I got the better end of the deal. While the situation is one that makes each day for him and Nancy a gift, the gift of enjoying life for every minute of it is one Sean keeps giving to us. And the love that flows is, indeed, seriously good medicine that can't be bottled, injected, or bought.

If you don't have the pleasure of knowing who Sean is, sorry that you haven't gotten that life joy. For the rest of you, postcards are always welcome...email me for the address if you like. Regardless, take a life lesson. When your body decides to throw you under the bus, check out the chassis, and roll with it. There is a lot of life on the other side of the dark still to be lived.