In the course of my "life story" posts, the life stories of others have, or are, coming, to an end.
First, and foremost, the wife of my youth is now at her deathbed. She suffered many pains because of my own inabilities to relate to other people.
How I wish I could touch her hand and express my feelings to her...but the constraints of life prevent me from so doing.
I wish her nothing less than the best and safest and most painless passage to whatever that awaits her.
And, Don Whiteman has died.
Now that he has died, I will name his name.
He was an integral part of my Bethel expectations. He was the Congregation Servant who encouraged me, promoted me, supported me, when we moved to Portland in 1964.
And then, when I came back from Bethel, a basket-case, he admitted to my Dad that he had refrained from sharing his own knowledge of that environment, as it would have been disloyal (as I stated in a previous post).
I wish his dear wife Anne nothing but the best; they were both good friends, once upon a time, many years ago.