I dunno. I know way more funny people than I do generous people, so maybe anyone can do it, but most people don't! Don't sell yourself short here.

Hmmm okay good point. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I guess I was looking at it as to be generous, ya give something of what you have to someone else. Tada! But the ability to make someone laugh can feel like magic.

When I was working the funeral homes answering service job, many people chose to have cremated remains made into jewelry. Which did not appeal to me, but a lot of folks found it comforting to carry that with them through each day. Plus, you could have multiple "stones" made.

That was a weird and very sobering job.

We got H's dad's ashes back in a wood-grained heavy plastic box. Plastic bag inside with his ashes. We kept the box, for whatever reason, after we scattered the ashes. When the funeral home told us "if you have a preferred container for your son's ashes, we will of course use that." Dad's plastic box had a sticker on it (serial number? dunno) and we left it. The funeral home people looked at the box, and we told them, "It was Dad's. They'd both love that we reused it." They told us there would be another tag on it, and did we want them to remove Dad's? "No, leave it. We may reuse the box again; it can accumulate tags and stickers, like old-fashioned luggage. Instead of places, for people." They looked blank for a minute, and then they smiled. H and I both plan to use it. StY knows.

I very much love your analogy of the tapestry, David. I shall keep and treasure that, thank you.

At my Dad's funeral, and for weeks after, everybody asked me, "How's your mom?" Not one person--not one--asked how I was. We will want to know how you are, how Matilda and Emmett and JZ's mom and brothers are--but mostly how you are.

I want to sit at Jacqueline's desk in the attic and look at her Turniphead picture, and the other things she collected for her special space, and be with her for a while. It's a very lovely idea.

When I was working the funeral homes answering service job, many people chose to have cremated remains made into jewelry.

I would like to be made into bling and ink.

It made me happy to think that according to Einstein she will have always been in this house and would always will be here. That it's only because I'm limited by human senses that I can only see forward on the timeline, only the cusp of time arriving and not backwards that I can't see her. But she's here. And we are here.

This is beautiful.

Sometimes when things don't work out, I think about the idea of infinite possible worlds, and the number of them where I am getting my heart's desire and the infinite ways it might play out. In an some universes, you and Jacquline have always been together and will always be so.

For what it’s worth, I think about how people will remember me and my guess is that they’d bring up some kind of generosity (that’s the most common compliment I get) but honestly I’d SO much rather be remembered as funny! You don’t have to work at generosity, anyone can do it. But to be funny? Much rarer.

I think this just speaks to generosity being your natural gift, javachik.

still lobbying to be laid on the felt

Gratitude to those now & gone who have preserved the bits & bytes here over the decades. Whew, feelings.

It helps me to come here and read the love, humor and comfort being shared. When I think about it, I am cycling between bitter rage, anger, and outrage.

Outrage for David, Matilda and their whole family. And for Jacqueline. She deserves more time on this planet. With her family. And her family deserves more time with her. David and JZ should have grown old and ancient together. Matilda should have her mom for a long time—time enough to see her grow into the amazing adult she will be.

I know “deserves” had nothing to do with how this works.

I am beating anger and rage back with a big stick. I lost a friend here in May to cancer—the same bullshit metastasis into the peritoneum. Young, generous, kind, funny, sweet.

And now Jacqueline. It’s not fair. I am searching for at least some peace, if not acceptance. Because this is unacceptable.

Hey look! It's the urn size calculator! [link]

JZ is about 116 lbs now so she needs 116 cubic inches. Which is (apparently) 8 cups.

Which is a pretty big cake.

But this apothecary jar is 4x4x9: [link]

Which is 144 cubic inches.

Is my math right? That doesn't look like it will hold 8 cups.

I need a baker!

I walked out the door this morning and startled a raven. It hopped in the air, utterly failed to recover its dignity on the way back down, and flew out of my line of sight. I'm not thinking of it as an omen, necessarily. There are ravens here all the time. But it did make me think of JZ and you all, and that I really should catch up on the board after falling behind again. And so here I am. And here you are talking about writing desks.