Comments on: Guest post by greenfrog: Iona

By: Patricia

Patricia — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 14:57:03 +0000

Windows VPS,

That should be, “Ohh, nice post, but really?”

Capitalize letters at the beginning of sentences.
Commas at appropriate places.
A verb would have been nice. Complete sentences rock.
Oh, and some actual content in the comment–that would have been excellent.

Sav ur texting skillz fr ur skinny selfone screen. Or whatever it is. You’re welcome here, but come when you’re playing with a full keyboard.

C ya.

By: Windows VPS

Windows VPS — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 04:48:51 +0000

ohh�nice post but really???? :P

By: Patricia

Patricia — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 01:53:07 +0000

g.f., in my case, I was standing at the threshold trying to help someone decide whether she wanted to live or not. So I came out of the experience with a different stance toward life.

By: Lora

Lora — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 20:36:59 +0000

One of my friends lost her husband recently and another went to a friend’s house this week to find she wasn’t home, but the aging mother was. Then while they were talking, the mother simply fell and died in my friend’s arms. It has caused a lot of discussion among this particular group of friends about being there for someone when they pass thru the veil. It’s one of life’s events, like being born, that asks for friendliness to be present as we go thru the experience.
I’m often reminded of Winnie the Pooh: “it’s friendlier with two”.

By: greenfrog

greenfrog — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 15:56:53 +0000

The sensation — completely unanticipated — at the end of that experience was like nothing I’d ever before encountered. It left me with a different stance toward death.

By: Patricia

Patricia — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 17:14:41 +0000

Bits and pieces of the sharp-tongued intellect, the manipulative middle sister, the telecom executive mind, the loving aunt to a dozen or so nieces and nephews.

Stunning, the story you tell in just one line.

Aspects of this piece call to mind the years I spent “sitting” with my special needs daughter, years that I hesitate to revisit because of their difficulty. “Entangled” and “strange” both fit the experience; “alive”–not exactly. “Barely standing” might work.

She and I remain very much entangled. Likewise, I continue to feel entanglement with people who sat with me during important times of high need, people who have passed on but left deep impressions in my softest clays.