memorial_service epitome of incomprehensibility There was one today - informal, in a park - for Jim Joyce of poetry groups. And... Of a tennis group (I didn't know he helped organize it). Of a college's teaching staff (this I knew, I had him for a class). Of a group of "grief walkers" (back to not knowing this before). People from different parts of his life came together to speak about him. A mic was set up, with a field and trees and faraway lake as a backdrop. With snacks and chats as aftermath. An odd thought: often the different sides of a person - the different activities they're in, for instance - are only well known by that person. The hub of their own large or modest bubble of hubbub. But when they die, other people take on the task of making a whole out of parts. Oddly comforting, but then you're also coping with the fact that they can't be here, at least as themselves in this world, to know you know them better in a way. My selfish missing-ness: I recently joined a poetry workshop with him and now he's gone. He made encouraging comments about my work, saying he appreciated the wordplay and not to worry if others found it confusing. ...I do want to clarify confusing things in my writing, so I didn't mind people pointing out where they get confused. Because in my case it's usually carelessness, not genius. I'm not James Joyce. (HE was a James Joyce, his full first name being James, but a different style still. Sad that this voice was stilled. But also glad to have it still.) 260712 ... ovenbird I’m intrigued by the group of “grief walkers.” It reminds me of a book that I have read twice and will likely continue to return to because it is one of the most powerful things I’ve ever read. The book is Falling Out of Time by David Grossman, and it is, perhaps, the most extraordinary book about grief I’ve encountered. It features a “Walking Man” who walks and walks in his grief and amasses a group of others who walk with him. And now I wonder if your friend’s “grief walker” group is in any way related to this powerful story. In any event, memorials are strange spaces of community and memory and I was interested in what you were saying about the many facets of people suddenly being apparent. I experienced the same thing at my Uncle’s recent funeral and felt, also, that I had come to know him better too late. 260712 ... e_o_i Yes, I think so... His partner died in 2021, and the palliative care residence she'd been in had recently started a grief walking group, where those who were mourning people could walk together and share a meal afterwards. I hadn't heard of such a thing before, but it sounded powerful to me too! Especially for its simplicity - no formal therapeutic or religious trappings, just the support of doing an activity together. Not everyone can walk, of course, but for those who can - or who can join with a wheelchair, etc. - it's both exercise and potential social connection. It seemed from what one speaker said that it was a place where you could talk or not talk about your grief. A low-pressure situation. ... A lighter note about (in)formality: my mother was concerned at first that the clothes I wore yesterday weren't dark enough. I had on a short-sleeved blouse in medium blue and a long skirt with the same background colour. I said, "It's in a park, not in a church, and the people don't seem to be very formal." I was right that time. Most people weren't dressed in black or dark colours, so my slightly dressy but not somber clothing fit the vibe. My favourite outfit there was a colourful pastel patchwork-style dress worn by another writer. And it fit in with one informal story: a former teaching colleague had a tale of how he (the speaker) used to wear a tie to work sometimes, which irritated Jim at first. It became a running joke between them. 260713 what's it to you? who go blather from