Not long after my father retired, he came to visit me in Owensboro. This was nineteen years ago this week.
Over the next 18 years until his death, he only spent one other night under my roof, an omission that continues to baffle me. But that’s another story with a therapist!
We visited Louisville on a Saturday: downtown, Fort Knox, Churchill Downs.
I later wrote this card to Grandma Carter, who by then was in a nursing home.
Five years ago, at one of my Sing For Your Supper events, these images showed up on my video camera:
Josh Stierley has a birthday today. I caught up with him last year in Chicago, and also have a photo I found of the two of us while he was in Ball State University Singers. We are both aging well.
Happy birthday, Josh!
Beloved former student Josh Stierley, now working on a doctorate at UIC.
31 July 1996.
I emailed my parents to tell them I’m growing up.
I lived in Owensboro, Kentucky for the 1999-2000 school year. My Grandma Carter was residing at that time in a nursing home in Jefferson City, and my father had just returned from his years as a missionary in Argentina.
This card is from 19 years ago this week.
Several recent deaths in the families of people I know and love have reminded me that, as always, “
in the midst of life, we are in death,” as so eloquently stated centuries ago by a Benedictine monk.
Henry Purcell set these funeral sentences to music in the early 1690s, in tribute to Queen Mary (of William and Mary) fame. Not many months later, this same music was sung at his own funeral.