Dear Charter Members of the Charles Moone Appreciation Society,
We’ve gotten the word from on high (his docs, since no other authority holds much water for Dad) that we’re nearing the end of the race. Which we knew, but it’s been officially annointed by others more savvy about these sorts of things.
Many of you would like to say goodbye in person, which I understand, but Dad is extremely tired now and things have changed dramatically even in the last 24 hours. You might have to find your own path to peace without those final moments together.
Dad, for whatever it’s worth, is content with his life, and importantly, his death, too. He’s ready. It could be weeks, it could be a couple months, but the fight is gone and the end is in view over the horizon. He’s happy to be with his family, he’s happy to be at home, and he’s not in too much pain. But he’s very, very tired.
He’s mostly in the house tottering about from the kitchen, where he picks up a bunch of cherries or grapes, and then ambling to his new little art space we set up for him. Then back for an issue of The New Yorker and a nap. A little lunch on his porch which remains a great solace and joy for him in these moments of quiet, no soundtrack but a northern flicker and a couple of noisy jays. His garden is exploding with color, a range between the violent red flame crocosmia “Lucifer” to the subtle highlights in tiny white roses an inch wide, to the rather more frilly and showy lavatera, shooting five foot pink sprays of ebullient spirit up his front steps. He loves them all.
And he loves you, too. We’ll talk again soon,
Quenby and Chris,
Co-Chairs of the Charles Moone Appreciation Society
Popularity: 52% [?]
Coming out of denial is painful so I am cracking (as you have been for weeks, months) and the tears and pain wrack my heart.
God damn it all. There I said it.
Thank you Quenby and Chris for keeping the Chartered Members connected and updated. Our love for your father keeps us all connected.
Our love beyond measure,
Carol and Kelsey
Thanks, Carol. We’re all stepping through it best we can–some days are better than others, but Dad is still good, despite the obvious decline in the last couple of weeks.
Call anytime, Q
My heart is with you. What a wonderful tribute you are to your father..your words, your heart, your spirit, your strength. I can imagine no greater gift for a child to give a parent than the unconditional love, grace, and acceptance you have shown him when he needed you most.
Thanks so much, Kristen. I know you have had similar experiences, so you can understand the frenetic and then slow pace that overcomes us in times like this so I haven’t had a chance to write back sooner. But I read all the comments and Dad reads them, too, and they mean a huge amount.
We’ll see each other over bowling someday soon. Beer, too.
Quenby
Ah, Q, would that I could put it into words as you do. Nice to be recorded by you, bound with you all in that too short week, to be part of the chronicle, love in the extended family. Now the book boxes have arrived, stacked in the foyer. There they await the necessary reordering of the stuff here, editing my own agglomeration of precious and not-so, books. The haphazard non-arrangement of my shelves chides me in face of the order of Charles’. It will wait until it’s cooler, after i return from the Cape, where i go without his wonderful help, company, example, inspiration, cooking, wee drams on the patio before dark and bugs.
I loved being with you all, and the send off after that “good day’s work”, the divine round robin dinner, parade of delicious food, shared pleasure. Thank you. Happily fed, I boarded the plane, slept not a wink, but was able to look out the window, see bright stars in the real darkness, faint lights below the clouds, the country at sleep. And above, the arch of the milky way. And a little bit of comfort in the big picture.
Hi,
I was so happy when my sister Cara sent the link to your chronicle. What a wonderful website.
Kind of a flashback here. Quenby, I remember us playing together as little kids. It’s all kind of fuzzy, but what I did always remember was the quiet generosity and impression that your father and his art made on me – even as a young boy.
He has always been Jerry’s excellent companion, and I just want you to know we are thinking of him very much.
Waves of peace and love,
Arn Johnson
What a stalwart, steady, loving, kind, loyal, and brilliant light Charles has shed on my life these nearly 45 years. It is that light that gives the strength to go on now, knowing we all had that and how much it has always meant. Even better, he shed that light on everyone around him. I know of no one who has more devoted friends, whom he always accepted with grace and love. He was so funny, too, full of zesty life. I can still hear that booming voice underneath the frailer one I heard last night. The big guffaws at the absurdity of life. The loud delight in a good joke. The eagerness to embrace, to cherish, to honor. Thank you, dear, dear friend. And thank you, Quenby and Chris, for all the qualities you inherited from him, and added some of your own. We are the Family of Charles.
Much love,
Sarah
Dear Charles,
I am here for You in thought, word and practice deed for Your life and its transition.
With abundant Love and relentless appreciation for the “all about You” within our relationship and beyond.
Sincerely,
Ernest