valley

Hi there, beautiful lady!!!

Thanks valley. Nice bright flower to brighten up an otherwise cloudy day..

Thanks Val .......... it's ok, I thought I had deleted this message and decided to send a PM instead. Thanks for the reply anyway. I just get so concerned being so far away.
* Hugs Lu

Three days seems to be the magic number . . . again I've checked the site after you posted three days ago.

I remember winter days in PA when I was growing up. You're in New York, aren't you?? Snow and all that?? Getting out the sweaters and overcoats, are you?

Hi Val;
I am worried about Bea. She hasn't posted in a long time, and I understand if she isn't feeling well. But, have you talked with her???????
* Lu

Thanks. I haven't been to the site for a while, but I see your message was only three days ago, so I'm not too tardy.

Actually, the reason I visited today was that I just got an email notification of somebody responding to the "TSG has lost another member...aarhus2004" thread. Appropriate I guess.

And, since I'm here, let me give you some excerpts from an email I got from Ben last year:

Well it certainly does look as if I am finished with TSG. Out of habit I go there, once or twice a day - but briefly. The feeling is one of no longer belonging. I must have had illusions which, once gone, will not return. That is the story of my life. But I am still puzzled by it until I am again involved in some novelty - caught up in illusion, fired by it but quite unable to prevent the cycle from repeating itself.

Agnosticism has long been my refuge because being a mortal coward, which certainly describes me and a person whose morals are probably worse than the much-maligned alley cat (definitely me), is the only position I feel qualified to take since I believe we simply cannot know beans-all about most things (other people included), ourselves (most particularly included). However I take no pleasure in being one (if indeed my claim is valid).


Clearly the guy was in one of his many depressions.

But at least some of my emails may have cheered him up a bit. From the same one as above:

I enjoy your humour, Bob, and appreciate your graciousness.


Still think about the guy from time to time. In fact, the other day there was something that made me think, "I'll have to tell Ben about that". Then immediately of course I realized.

when I was full of vim & vinegar
You mean you're not now??

I dont know if you have ever seen me around TSG before now but I am a born-again Christian (please dont cringe )
No . . . doesn't bother me any. To use your words, any friend of Ben is a friend of mine.

I am always hesitant making new friends because I worry that if the subject ever comes up, I will push people away with my strong views.
No worries here . . . am not really critical of other people's beliefs as long as they are genuine, and yours certainly seem to be.

The poem was beautiful..i've heard it many times.
Yes, it's very popular at funerals and has even been featured in some TV shows lately.

I was confused about Ben's date of passing because one son, Tim, had given it as the 26th, and the other son, Nik, had given it as the 24th. So I wrote them a brief email asking about it. I got this response back from Tim:

Hello Bob
the death certificate stated the date of death as being July 24 i originally thought it was the twenty sixtth,both of his sisters were informed by me about his death >We had a wake for him at the place where he resided where there were about fifty people in attendance , it was a very touching moment for all i did'nt realise, though my father was somewhat of a recluse he was well loved in his community .Thank-you Bob
Timothy bloxham

If he passed on the 24th, then that's particularly poignant for me since he wrote me an email on the 23rd . . . the day before he went (spooky).

I haven't asked about the circumstances of his passing, like if he was in the hospital or they found him in his "cabin". That's pretty sensitive stuff, so if I even ask at all, I'll wait for a few weeks.

Quick story because I don't have time right now to do justice to your latest. Will respond at length later today.

My Catholic school memory goes all the way back to the 1950’s.

I got confirmed when I was about 8 years old. At that age, in the Roman Catholic church as I'm sure you know you are "confirmed" as a "soldier of Christ". The "Confirmation" ceremony is an intimidating one - especially for an 8 year old. You stand before a bishop, dressed in somber and royal robes and with a staff that looks like it's taller than it really is, and are asked several catechism questions, then you have to kiss his ring, and then he pronounces you "confirmed".

I'm sure I'm telling you stuff you already know, but it's the impact this experience had on me that's the story.

In preparation for that event, the nuns pound the catechism into you so that you'll for sure know the answers to the questions that the bishop asks you.

They also tell you this story, which is the terrifying part:

Once you're confirmed as a soldier of Christ, you must always say "Yes" if someone asks you if you are a Catholic. If you don't say "Yes", then you'll go to Hell for denying that you're a Catholic.

The Communists (remember, this was the 50's) will shoot you if you are a Catholic.

For years after that, I lived in fear of meeting a Communist on the street. If he asked me if I was a Catholic, I was damned either way. If I said "No", I would go to Hell. If I said "Yes", he would shoot me.

The nuns did indeed give me a good education for all their faults and flaws. But that was a hell of a choice to place on an 8 year old. No wonder I'm still dysfunctional and psychologically scarred.

OK . . . that's the quick story. As I said I'll reply more later.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!

While generally now attributed to Mary Frye, the hugely popular bereavement poem 'Do not Stand at My Grave and Weep' (often shown as 'Don't Stand at My Grave and Weep) has uncertain history and origins.

Hey valley, I'm gonna write a song about Ben. I'll let you know how it goes...It has to be poetic... He was a real treasure that shouldn't be ignored...