It happens to each of us. Alone or with our "loving family" surrounding us. We die.. And this reality hit home as I learned of two classmates landing on either side of the line that separates us from life and death. One was a sparkly, beautiful classmate who I have not seen in over 25 years.. She died last month in a town not far from home.. The other is a walking friend who I haven't seen in about the same number of years; maybe less. She is dying and wanted more than ever to just be left alone...
I visited a cousin, my age who is in the grips of the slow death we call Alzheimer's.. I doubt he knew who I was, but I saw a familiar sparkle in his still bright blue eyes; surrounded by his curly white air and cascading beard.. His wife loves him and is with him each day to comfort and converse...

I spent time last week also visiting the cemetary north of Lowell. That's the small midwestern town I grew up in.. My friend Sue and I spennt nearly two hours walking. Recognizing names, dates, and even a few faces on the stones.. Each time we saw someone we remembered from our lives, we lifted our gaze further to another name from the past; and walked ahead further.. I saw classmates, and paper route customers. We saw town founders and stalwart citizens who gave their all for the little town and its people. There were teachers, coaches, antique store owners, and a bowler of some renown... There were many family names on stones that represented a core of families that everyone knew.. Cousins, parents, grandparents, and children all with the same last name; seperated by years and the cause of death.
I found comfort in the assembly of people I'd known as a boy. I felt a connection I'd been missing. And the visit seemed to be the "Goodbye Tour" I'd promised to make this summer. Not across the country from Michigan to the westcoast. But, a visit to my roots and the ground from which they sprang.


And today my dog Cody and I visited our friends who live at the Memory Care Unit at the veterans home near here.. I carry his name on a card so they have a clue who he is, but a few seem to remember his even as 2 weeks passes before we return.. Most of the who are awake and not dozing after lunch brighen when I lead him to their feet.. They stretch from their stupor to touch and pet him.. And they smile and talk to him.. There is nothing like the comfort of touching a big soft dog. They both seem to lean into the touch.

The storm has passed and the sun has dropped behind any clouds to the west.. My dog and I are heading to bed... One more night of pure joy, calm, and love.. Good Night to you all,