Mrs. Teabody Laments the Passing of Friends

I am a part of all that I have met.~Tennyson





June has become July in fiery fashion, has it not, Gentle Reader, "knocking the starch out of" many enterprises. Mrs. Teabody trusts you all have the good sense  not to venture too far afield without judicious planning. Staying hydrated? Mrs. Teabody will soon be off to her charming and moderately cool shop, Tickle Your Fancy,  but before that happens there are a few thoughts beating against Mrs. Teabody's brow wanting to be dislodged, and it would be churlish not to oblige.

Endings. Beginnings. There are so many of each to think about this July morning. A few days ago a quiet message informed Mrs. Teabody that a school chum had passed suddenly and the first thought that leapt to mind was how terribly upset he had been following a recent visit home to see how much the landmarks of his youth had changed and fallen into decay. Indeed was his only visit home a visit that made the end more sweet or more bitter? Hard to say.  Mrs. Teabody had not seen this school chum in over three decades, but his name on someone's lips brought a smile to Mrs. Teabody's, though her world is made less through his loss. R.I.P Joseph!

When Mrs. Teabody made her first adventure across the pond in 1989, she had the great fortune to dock at Ambleside Guest House where Mrs. Pamela Barnacle held sway. Through those six weeks abroad, Pam Barnacle became the filter through which Mrs. Teabody came to know the non-Shakespeare United Kingdom, and Pam was touchstone, mother, confessor, chauffeur. Across the years the friendship continued with visits, cards, E-mails ending rather abruptly with the untimely passing of Pam's daughter and her husband's growing dependency brought on by dementia. This year's Christmas card was not answered, and there was a discomforting thought that perhaps one other year's card had travelled without an answer  . . . Just a few short days ago in speaking with a  distant relative, Mrs. Teabody noted that she wished to visit the UK in the fall and especially wanted to "get out to Stratford" to catch up with Pam as it has been ever so long. At this point the relative revealed the stunning news that Pam had passed away suddenly a year and a half ago." I thought you knew," she lamented. But who would tell Mrs. Teabody of her friend's passing? Pam would have told Mrs. Teabody in her annual newsy letter, but no letters arrived in miniscule upright French script handwriting marked Par Avion and stamped Royal Mail. And no more ever will. R.I.P. Pam.

Here is a quotation from  Mr. John Donne (1572-1631) who knew a thing or two about life and living.
"...No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

Vivid recollections of these two departed friends fill Mrs. Teabody's thoughts this morning as she greets the day. How diminished would Mrs. Teabody's life have been without knowing them! How diminished would your life be had you not met certain people, Gentle Reader? Life does indeed go on, but each person's passing should be a reminder to value life, to nourish friendships, to care about others. About half a decade ago, Mrs. Teabody sat in a music room learning a song based on Mr. Donne's meditation. The lyrics come back easily "No man is an island; no man stands alone; each man's joy is joy to me; each man's grief is my own. We need one another, so I will defend each man as my brother, each man as my friend." Abraham Lincoln once said, "I don't like that man.  I must get to know him better."  Mrs. Teabody sees the wisdom in this. She hopes you do as well.

Stay cool! Ta!