Yesterday marked three years since Jeff died, which we spent together, indulging in massages, and eating his favorite meal.
"You're here because it's Dadpa's birthday," either Lake or Finn said when I arrived.
"It's not his birthday," the other said. "After you die, your birthday is called your anniversary."
It was so clever that it wasn't worth "correcting." Right. Forevermore, June 11 is Dadpa's anniversary.
A few hours later and quite out of the blue, I received an email from our neighbor Eleanor Rubin, an artist whose work we loved (we bought several pieces) and whom I only have seen occasionally over the years and not at all in the last three:
It is impulsive of me to send a note and say hello. I hope my note does not feel intrusive. I think of you often and miss seeing you both.
Today, reading a book called " The Book of Trees: Visualizing Branches of Knowledge," I came across an image of an "OrgScope by Jeffrey Stamp." It made me remember a day, (must have been '11) when I met Jeffrey out walking his dog and he told me of his diagnosis. I'm sure my response was inadequate but the moment is etched in my memory. I wished then as I wish now that I'd known how to respond fully. Jeffrey seemed so much himself and yet I doubted that I'd ever see him again. And I never did...
And then I remembered that about two years ago, I received a permission request from Manuel Lima, asking for permission to include a picture of OrgScope in this book on "visualizing branches of knowledge." And that I'd blogged one of Manuel's very clear talks here.
Explain to me why my neighbor wrote yesterday. Explain, please.