I’m sure I’ve said this before, but I’d like to repeat my thanks to each of you for your continuing encouragement and well wishes. This is dragging on longer than we had hoped, and it’s your cheers and whispers and messages and poetry that is keeping us going.
I felt I needed to share an example of the latter with everyone, from a whilom coworker not normally known for his Nashian versification:
Ode to overcoming a nose tube
It is not the thing for king or wastrel
To have a tube shoved up your nostril.
That’s the beginning; I’ll skip most of the midsection which meant a great deal to me but which would require a good deal of explaining to be decipherable to a wider audience. But it concludes with lines that made me tear up:
You, the husband, the father, the good friend
Are loved from the beginning to the end.
While you may not be in best circumstance
You make your music as part of the Dance.
And if my verse brings you a sense of mirth
Then these hard times become a time of birth.