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Who was Cassandra?


  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.

MY SMALL PRESS


« A Week of Journeying: Asking Why (2) | Main | Trying to Get Home »

March 19, 2008

Comments

Oh my. How I wish I had had this kind of experience with my father before he died.

I'm saddened by the knowledge that he thinks he's dying, and by the possibility that he's correct.

(o)

Beth, thank you for all of this.

{Beth and J}

Beth, this process is very moving. Thank you.

Yes, very moving, Beth, thank you for sharing. I, too, wish I'd had this kind of experience with my father. ((0))

Thank you for allowing us to follow him on the way down; it's a real privilege to be a distant witness. And even in severe decline he retains his ability to make me laugh and think at the same time:

"Because I told them a lot of lies and they collected them and published a book, and I want you to find all the copies and destroy them."

Very moving. Death is all about living. I hope that when my time comes I will be blessed with this same grace.

Ohhh my. Thank you for sharing this. Such a souland graceful passing.
I imagine too, the photo here is from his room?

Ohhh my. Thank you for sharing this. Such a soul and graceful passing.
I imagine too, the photo here is from his room?

Beth, thank you all for this glimpse of hopeful passing.

Oh Beth. I hope you were able to bring him the yogurt soup. Thank you for giving us this story--I hope we are all lucky enough to end this well, in the company of such love and care.

Thank you all for writing...yes, Pat, the photo is of one wall in his apartment. That cross and the picture have always been in his study or close by him. I'm not sure where the cross came from - I'll ask if I can - but the picture is a pencil drawing entitled "The River Tay at Perth, Scotland, 1944" and it's by a good friend of his, Byron Thomas, who was an artist in the New England village where he taught and was a minister for many years. There's a couple on the banks of the river, arms around each other, and they're looking across it at a cathedral veiled in fog.

He's weaker but had some clearer moments today, and we've been able to talk. A very precious time.

[heart]

Ohhh Beth, thank you for sharing your beautiful experience.

Beth,
I wanted to write, "sad and yet beautiful experience."
I'm sorry for my mistake.

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