It's been forever and a day since I last communicated with you, dear ones: since May 14 2025 in fact. This has been a time of hibernation and integration. We lost Lisa's dad, after many years of elder care, complicated by the passing of her sister from colon cancer, in December of 2023; and shortly thereafter, my dad on January 18 of 2024. I've been thinking of him every day. Ways I'm like him, ways I'm not. What kind of man he was, and perhaps most compellingly whether any of those stories matter.  Hopefully, we ruminate on other people's death and on our own mortality. I say hopefully, because it strikes me as a good idea, if you're going to have a genuine, deeply felt sense of what makes you come alive, or what matters: your kids, your job, your couple, your health, whatever else. I've heard many reports from you about being by someone's side as they declined and died. Moments of boredom, worry, patience, madness, and sometimes forgiveness and eve...