Reading this shot me straight back to the front row at Banff, where I made sure to sit early, knowing what was coming would matter. That night was powerful. The words you shared then, the ones in this piece, and all those in between cut through the noise, sit heavy in the chest, and guide. “Make them feel”—you always do. You did that evening. And again here. Thank you.
After I lost my late wife in a cycling incident (a driver’s fault), my friends and family weren’t sure how to talk about it.
My answer: everyone dies to either pathos or misadventure. Pathos is where people pity you in your latter days; misadventure is where you could have avoided it if you’d just known or done some things that you didn’t know or do.
There’s nothing to pick between them, but how you live matters.
I don’t need to explain that to you; but replied so you know that there are people reading who understand it too.
Your words always make me pause and reflect. In this case, having lived through exactly what you described, they resonated even more deeply.
Mark, what you wrote is truly wonderful and these words (and the feeling in them) have given me, for the first time in years, mental peace, enough to sleep soundly, without dreams, and finally rest.
Reading this shot me straight back to the front row at Banff, where I made sure to sit early, knowing what was coming would matter. That night was powerful. The words you shared then, the ones in this piece, and all those in between cut through the noise, sit heavy in the chest, and guide. “Make them feel”—you always do. You did that evening. And again here. Thank you.
My sympathies, Mark.
After I lost my late wife in a cycling incident (a driver’s fault), my friends and family weren’t sure how to talk about it.
My answer: everyone dies to either pathos or misadventure. Pathos is where people pity you in your latter days; misadventure is where you could have avoided it if you’d just known or done some things that you didn’t know or do.
There’s nothing to pick between them, but how you live matters.
I don’t need to explain that to you; but replied so you know that there are people reading who understand it too.
afuckinmen
Your words always make me pause and reflect. In this case, having lived through exactly what you described, they resonated even more deeply.
Mark, what you wrote is truly wonderful and these words (and the feeling in them) have given me, for the first time in years, mental peace, enough to sleep soundly, without dreams, and finally rest.
Thank you.
Uri
Glass raised. Horn blown to the four winds.