As you know I found this to be an exquisite share and piece of writing James. The blurry view of your dad through the windshield was in complete contrast to the clear and revealing detail of his character in your storytelling. He was in focus the whole time, and as is the beauty with memoir, that focus is preserved for you and your family to forever enjoy.
Rick, Thank you pal, and thank you for your purposeful hands while the essay was on the clay wheel being sculpted. Your feedback and suggestions were invaluable, and helped me move forward to completion with confidence. I'm so grateful.
James, I wholeheartedly agree with everything shared here thus far. What a beautiful piece of writing, a wonderful tribute to a really great man.
By so vividly introducing us your father in the last week he was alive, you revealed the kind of person he’d been his entire life. It's fitting that one of the last things he ever did was attend to some errands … so he could tend to others: his children, the hospital staff, even the birds outside. Wonderful.
Larry, thank you for taking the time to comment, AND for the help prior to this essay seeing the light of day. I'm grateful for your coaching and feedback. And for our incredible session with Rick the other day! I did, in fact, enjoy the IPA. Take good care, pal.
"I was beginning to feel like I was on a scavenger hunt without the list." It's so touching to read about what your father's priorities were in his final week, still thinking about what other people might need. I like that he wanted to go to the ocean and eat an oyster.
You write so tenderly about tending and attending to your father. It's a beautiful tribute, James. Thank you for sharing it here.
Wendy, You know those times when you're writing and you discover what you're writing isn't coming from your thinking brain, it's coming from somewhere else? That's what it was when that scavenger hunt line came out of my pen. I recalled having that thought three years ago when that hour with my dad took place, but I had completely forgotten it, until I was immersed back in the setting with him and it was as if my body and memory knew (th scavenger hunt feeling) what my mind didn't or hadn't yet re-grasped.
Any way, thank you so much for reading and taking the time to write back your thoughts. I love that we're connected out here in the Substack world. - Take care, James
Beautiful and breath taking piece James. This one inspired me to finish up my own piece about my mother's passing. Thank you for your generosity. What a gift to the world you are. My best to you and our family
Steven, if I inspired a forthcoming piece about your mom, then it was all worth it. I can't wait to read it. It's funny, I could probably write an essay about either of my parents each week for a year. There is so much wonderful emotion at the core of my memoires of and with them. Thank you too for the compliments. I am grateful to journey in the world with your companionship and friendship.
Thank you so much, James, for this generous offering from you and your father. You've welcomed us in, providing the cues, imagery and resonant tones to be able to sense deeply this tender and, frankly, mystical experience. My eyes filled with tears after the first few paragraphs, and hovered there throughout as my body shifted into that state of presence that occurs when a transformation is in progress, an arrival or departure from this life. Other commenters have named and appreciated so many aspects of what you describe in this essay which I feel also; I just want to add my appreciation of how you and your father found your way together in those hours, in those last days. We witness it with you, and sense the resonance in our own experiences, past and future.
Hi Alden, I so love that we are connected in bringing our experiences to the world through the written word. And I love that we shape each other in the process. You used the word mystical above - and I'm so glad. That's what it was. Participating and witnessing a profoundly emotional experience at the same time. It's completely not surprising that you saw that. Thank you for reading and take the time to share 😊
Beautiful writing, James. The way you describe tending versus attending—as something that spans time and expresses love through presence—is profound. I could feel the depth of connection between you and your father in those precious final moments.
DW, thank you pal. If we lived closer together we'd take a ride on tending for several hours. it's the root of so many words... extend, intend, pretend, content, portend, etc.
I think we tend that which we love and we love that which we tend if we are fully present.
Rob, Thank you. He was indeed a great human and he taught through his actions. It was a mystical experience - one that I was participating in and also witnessing at the same time. It's been rolling around in my head for years and I'm glad it's out in the world, serving others in some unique way. 😀 Take good care. James
Thank you for sharing these memories of your father's final week here on Earth. It is wonderful that you had that time to spend together before he left this life.
Your stories remind me so much of the last week I spent with my mother, staying in my old bedroom and attending to her before she passed away. Your ability to capture the moment and the raw emotions touched me deeply. Thank you for writing this.
Oh Tammy - how lovely to see you here in the comments section. You bring a smile to my face, and I heard you laugh in my mind just now. I wish we were going to Cabo with the group again next year! I hope you've been well and thank you for taking the time to let me know the story touched you 😊.
James, this is such a wonderful collection of your thoughts and experiences. I appreciate your mindful presence with your dad and your ability to put pen to paper to beautifully express your thoughts and feelings as you embraced the moments of being present with him. Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
James; Thanks for that loving portrait of your father. Through your writing, I feel I know him better since his death. I can only hope my children will remember me with the clarity and love that is the essence of what you have written.
Your father and I had a rainy and thoughtful drive to the beach shortly before he died. Sometimes we talked and sometimes we just listened to the road noise and the rain on the windshield. In some ways the silence spoke with more authority than the conversation. My only regret, at the end of our trip, was that I hadn't known your father 40 years ago.
Earlier this week I was reflecting with some others on the inadequacy of the question “How are you”. The only convenient answer is “good” and yet what lies underneath that word is always a vast iceberg of complexity. I say this because leaving a “like” here feels similarly appropriate and also woefully lacking. So much to say but will simply allow these words to live on in me somehow, in ways you will never really know but that will matter. Heartfelt thanks.
What a great man. His legacy and impact continue to be felt. Your gift of connection is special, and the connection of attending and tending is a profound one.
Very moving. Thank you for sharing this beautiful lesson, James. Your father sounds like a wonderful person that tended to and touched countless lives.
As you know I found this to be an exquisite share and piece of writing James. The blurry view of your dad through the windshield was in complete contrast to the clear and revealing detail of his character in your storytelling. He was in focus the whole time, and as is the beauty with memoir, that focus is preserved for you and your family to forever enjoy.
Rick, Thank you pal, and thank you for your purposeful hands while the essay was on the clay wheel being sculpted. Your feedback and suggestions were invaluable, and helped me move forward to completion with confidence. I'm so grateful.
James, I wholeheartedly agree with everything shared here thus far. What a beautiful piece of writing, a wonderful tribute to a really great man.
By so vividly introducing us your father in the last week he was alive, you revealed the kind of person he’d been his entire life. It's fitting that one of the last things he ever did was attend to some errands … so he could tend to others: his children, the hospital staff, even the birds outside. Wonderful.
I hope you enjoyed that IPA ...
... and that toast.
Larry, thank you for taking the time to comment, AND for the help prior to this essay seeing the light of day. I'm grateful for your coaching and feedback. And for our incredible session with Rick the other day! I did, in fact, enjoy the IPA. Take good care, pal.
"I was beginning to feel like I was on a scavenger hunt without the list." It's so touching to read about what your father's priorities were in his final week, still thinking about what other people might need. I like that he wanted to go to the ocean and eat an oyster.
You write so tenderly about tending and attending to your father. It's a beautiful tribute, James. Thank you for sharing it here.
Wendy, You know those times when you're writing and you discover what you're writing isn't coming from your thinking brain, it's coming from somewhere else? That's what it was when that scavenger hunt line came out of my pen. I recalled having that thought three years ago when that hour with my dad took place, but I had completely forgotten it, until I was immersed back in the setting with him and it was as if my body and memory knew (th scavenger hunt feeling) what my mind didn't or hadn't yet re-grasped.
Any way, thank you so much for reading and taking the time to write back your thoughts. I love that we're connected out here in the Substack world. - Take care, James
Beautiful and breath taking piece James. This one inspired me to finish up my own piece about my mother's passing. Thank you for your generosity. What a gift to the world you are. My best to you and our family
Steven, if I inspired a forthcoming piece about your mom, then it was all worth it. I can't wait to read it. It's funny, I could probably write an essay about either of my parents each week for a year. There is so much wonderful emotion at the core of my memoires of and with them. Thank you too for the compliments. I am grateful to journey in the world with your companionship and friendship.
Thank you so much, James, for this generous offering from you and your father. You've welcomed us in, providing the cues, imagery and resonant tones to be able to sense deeply this tender and, frankly, mystical experience. My eyes filled with tears after the first few paragraphs, and hovered there throughout as my body shifted into that state of presence that occurs when a transformation is in progress, an arrival or departure from this life. Other commenters have named and appreciated so many aspects of what you describe in this essay which I feel also; I just want to add my appreciation of how you and your father found your way together in those hours, in those last days. We witness it with you, and sense the resonance in our own experiences, past and future.
Hi Alden, I so love that we are connected in bringing our experiences to the world through the written word. And I love that we shape each other in the process. You used the word mystical above - and I'm so glad. That's what it was. Participating and witnessing a profoundly emotional experience at the same time. It's completely not surprising that you saw that. Thank you for reading and take the time to share 😊
Beautiful writing, James. The way you describe tending versus attending—as something that spans time and expresses love through presence—is profound. I could feel the depth of connection between you and your father in those precious final moments.
DW, thank you pal. If we lived closer together we'd take a ride on tending for several hours. it's the root of so many words... extend, intend, pretend, content, portend, etc.
I think we tend that which we love and we love that which we tend if we are fully present.
I love you pal.
So beautiful, my friend. He sounds like an incredible human. Glad I got to learn a little about him through this wonderful piece.
It's left me feeling expansive and hopeful, and happy that people like that show the rest of us how it can be. He sure taught you well.
Rob, Thank you. He was indeed a great human and he taught through his actions. It was a mystical experience - one that I was participating in and also witnessing at the same time. It's been rolling around in my head for years and I'm glad it's out in the world, serving others in some unique way. 😀 Take good care. James
Gratitude, my friend.
James,
Thank you for sharing these memories of your father's final week here on Earth. It is wonderful that you had that time to spend together before he left this life.
Your stories remind me so much of the last week I spent with my mother, staying in my old bedroom and attending to her before she passed away. Your ability to capture the moment and the raw emotions touched me deeply. Thank you for writing this.
Very moving, thanks for sharing James.
Oh Tammy - how lovely to see you here in the comments section. You bring a smile to my face, and I heard you laugh in my mind just now. I wish we were going to Cabo with the group again next year! I hope you've been well and thank you for taking the time to let me know the story touched you 😊.
James, this is such a wonderful collection of your thoughts and experiences. I appreciate your mindful presence with your dad and your ability to put pen to paper to beautifully express your thoughts and feelings as you embraced the moments of being present with him. Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
James; Thanks for that loving portrait of your father. Through your writing, I feel I know him better since his death. I can only hope my children will remember me with the clarity and love that is the essence of what you have written.
Your father and I had a rainy and thoughtful drive to the beach shortly before he died. Sometimes we talked and sometimes we just listened to the road noise and the rain on the windshield. In some ways the silence spoke with more authority than the conversation. My only regret, at the end of our trip, was that I hadn't known your father 40 years ago.
A beautiful story with a great lesson. I had to stop a couple of times while reading 😢. Thanks for sharing it, James.
Earlier this week I was reflecting with some others on the inadequacy of the question “How are you”. The only convenient answer is “good” and yet what lies underneath that word is always a vast iceberg of complexity. I say this because leaving a “like” here feels similarly appropriate and also woefully lacking. So much to say but will simply allow these words to live on in me somehow, in ways you will never really know but that will matter. Heartfelt thanks.
What a great man. His legacy and impact continue to be felt. Your gift of connection is special, and the connection of attending and tending is a profound one.
Very moving. Thank you for sharing this beautiful lesson, James. Your father sounds like a wonderful person that tended to and touched countless lives.