Introduction:

It would be a better world in which final farewells could be bitter-sweetly ceremonial as in the Scots-Irish ballad, ‘The Parting Glass’: 

 But since it fell into my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I’ll gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be to you all

But they very seldom are. As one grows older, one’s circle narrows. Outside the circle, distances widen.  Too often we fall out of touch and never really know the fate of those whose lives have once touched ours in deeply significant ways.  Sometimes we hear of the death of those out of touch and are haunted by regret for words never spoken or messages never sent. 

Still, with every such regret there is opportunity. Until it falls upon one’s lot to rise, one can express enduring gratitude to old friends still at the table.

The following heartfelt tributes are for five for whom there is no longer such opportunity. Three are no longer in mortal coil. The other two–– out of touch–– are hopefully living in the contentment they deserve. These essays are offered as a small token of sincere farewells missed.  

All but one of their names have been changed or alphabetized to protect identities…  

__2024, February

👍🏼 😐 😬 🥱 👎 💩