Idiosycratic Life

Hi. I am sick. I have a nasty cold, mostly from flying while uber-tired and stuffy, which is like begging for a massive sinus infection. I am not nauseous, though, which is a bonus.

Going to Boston was a good thing. Stephen's grandfather's memorial was really sad. I didn't know this before, but apparently he used to sneak his trumpet into church on random days and occasionally on holidays, and then when the congregation would be singing Amazing Grace or Silent Night or something, he would go to the balcony at the back of the church and begin to play.

That kind of spontaneous spirit is what I love about Stephen, and it was so sad to hear his family mourn his grandfather, because they all kept talking about how much they missed him doing the unexpected, kind, funny things. Apparently, his grandfather was always humming or whistling, (which he *was* doing on the one occasion that I met him, come to think of it) and his caretakers said he was whistling on the morning he died.

May we all go as peacefully and cheerfully as he did, with children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren who love us, and a song on our lips.