A note from Claire in England informs me that Hughie, her father, had a second major stroke and the doctors do not expect him to survive. Or, if he does survive, it will be questionable if survival was worth it.
Over the years, Hughie Greenaway has been a good internet friend, someone I never met in person and yet whose presence on the various Buddhist bulletin boards we both visited was a breath of fresh air. Hughie was always caring and funny and unwilling to call bullshit anything other than bullshit. (There's a lot of bullshit dust in the spiritual firmament ... a corollary and Siamese twin to the fairy dust that can be manufactured.)
I did not know what to say to Claire's announcement. I wrote back inadequately, "We love him and we loved him. What else is there?"
Of course there is a lot "else." I just don't know what it is.