I’ll have you know that I spoke to the moon earlier, and she said that she will miss seeing you this go round, and that it won’t be a party without you, Will Dowd. You’re to get well soon and she will see you next time.
You are there. On the other side. I wish I could pull away every single thing that stands between you and your moon. For it is still your moon, Will. I won’t be going anywhere.
I’ve traveled a bit and have always found two things fascinating: 1, that the sun looks different depending on where you are in the world (in Ecuador, I found it faraway and diffused; in Uganda, low, close and melty; in Colorado, crisp and piercing). And 2, how the moon always looks the same. That familiar ‘face’, same brightness, just slightly nearer at times but otherwise constant. I find it steadying company, reassuring light. Wishing you that kind of constant healing presence. From, another reader not going anywhere.
I love each of your letters but the last one was probably my favorite. I used to also shriek at God talk but now I welcome it because it can be defined as we wish it - even as the moon 🌝
"But God works in mysterious ways. (Oh no, there go more subscribers spinning into orbit!)" - LOL!
I wonder if Mrs Turpin's name is a heavy-handed use, as Wikitionary describes -- "Borrowed from Middle French turpitude, from Latin turpitūdō (“baseness, infamy”), from turpis (“foul, base”)."
Will, wishing you comfort and healing; hoping you'll be home and able to view December's FM without mirrors.
Dear Will. I only found you this year, but I enjoy reading your letters to your 'lunatics'. I don't mind you talking about God. I pray that you will eventually come to faith in His Son, Jesus, who loved you so much that He died for you.
I enjoyed reading last month's post and I was surprised at the folks who felt they could no longer follow you. Where has reasonable debate disappeared to? I accept that everyone has different points of view, but we should all be able to say them without being 'cancelled'.
I pray for your comfort and peace, both physically and spiritually. God bless you, and long may you be able to marvel at His creation!
Thanks for your letter. And thanks for the wonderful picture of child-Flannery, who I now see was fierce even then. I first read her stories in university 40 years ago and her spirit, just knowing she was here for a while, has been a kind of sustaining presence ever since. I hope you are well soon.
I wrote to you or perhaps I thought I should write to you about my Mother who was a very devout believer who then once prayed with her three boys whilst on an October pageant eve moon appeared out of its clandestine whereabouts; cold fired with a convincing and breathtaking Moon-face, a floating effigy of the Little Rose of Woonsocket (perhaps), and a well known singular suffering soul about to reveal herself to the assembled brothers, who then could see or not see her bright and flattened agonies, as you would ponder them in a child’s limited range of feeling and experience; such a remorse of a misadventures of childhood then gets tucked away in a secret location and forgotten. What I mean to say is then why should some of us suffer more ardently than the rest of us have to? If it’s to be a question of personality then I simply rest my retort at the flat peak of a hill basking in the view from the height, then throwing off the useless shell grown in obscurity, I submit my weary soul to mirror the waters and fragrances of mercy. We are omnipresent in the moment we claim but can peace remain within us as our faithful companion. My heart says yes it will. Your life is a gift to us and your courage its rich mirth.
Ah, some readers find it hard to simply received what they are offered. I guess we’ve all been that reader somewhere along the line. Heal well, Will!
Last month's newsletter was inspiring to say the least! I pray you are doing well and are doing ok!
I’ll have you know that I spoke to the moon earlier, and she said that she will miss seeing you this go round, and that it won’t be a party without you, Will Dowd. You’re to get well soon and she will see you next time.
You are there. On the other side. I wish I could pull away every single thing that stands between you and your moon. For it is still your moon, Will. I won’t be going anywhere.
I’ve traveled a bit and have always found two things fascinating: 1, that the sun looks different depending on where you are in the world (in Ecuador, I found it faraway and diffused; in Uganda, low, close and melty; in Colorado, crisp and piercing). And 2, how the moon always looks the same. That familiar ‘face’, same brightness, just slightly nearer at times but otherwise constant. I find it steadying company, reassuring light. Wishing you that kind of constant healing presence. From, another reader not going anywhere.
I wish people weren’t so afraid of “god-talk.”
I’m asking the universe to protect you. Get well soon.
Will, your honesty breaks my heart open. And if you need anything, we are in Winthrop. Please let us know. We are right here.
I love each of your letters but the last one was probably my favorite. I used to also shriek at God talk but now I welcome it because it can be defined as we wish it - even as the moon 🌝
"But God works in mysterious ways. (Oh no, there go more subscribers spinning into orbit!)" - LOL!
I wonder if Mrs Turpin's name is a heavy-handed use, as Wikitionary describes -- "Borrowed from Middle French turpitude, from Latin turpitūdō (“baseness, infamy”), from turpis (“foul, base”)."
Will, wishing you comfort and healing; hoping you'll be home and able to view December's FM without mirrors.
Dear Will. I only found you this year, but I enjoy reading your letters to your 'lunatics'. I don't mind you talking about God. I pray that you will eventually come to faith in His Son, Jesus, who loved you so much that He died for you.
I enjoyed reading last month's post and I was surprised at the folks who felt they could no longer follow you. Where has reasonable debate disappeared to? I accept that everyone has different points of view, but we should all be able to say them without being 'cancelled'.
I pray for your comfort and peace, both physically and spiritually. God bless you, and long may you be able to marvel at His creation!
I love you Will
Thanks for your letter. And thanks for the wonderful picture of child-Flannery, who I now see was fierce even then. I first read her stories in university 40 years ago and her spirit, just knowing she was here for a while, has been a kind of sustaining presence ever since. I hope you are well soon.
I hope someone will bring you a copy of her letters - I can't think of anything better to be reading while recuperating .
Thank you for being so talented.
Oh Will.. I pray that some kindly nurse will wheel your trolly to a window that showers you in moonlight. That is the very least they can do.
I love being one of your lunatics
I wrote to you or perhaps I thought I should write to you about my Mother who was a very devout believer who then once prayed with her three boys whilst on an October pageant eve moon appeared out of its clandestine whereabouts; cold fired with a convincing and breathtaking Moon-face, a floating effigy of the Little Rose of Woonsocket (perhaps), and a well known singular suffering soul about to reveal herself to the assembled brothers, who then could see or not see her bright and flattened agonies, as you would ponder them in a child’s limited range of feeling and experience; such a remorse of a misadventures of childhood then gets tucked away in a secret location and forgotten. What I mean to say is then why should some of us suffer more ardently than the rest of us have to? If it’s to be a question of personality then I simply rest my retort at the flat peak of a hill basking in the view from the height, then throwing off the useless shell grown in obscurity, I submit my weary soul to mirror the waters and fragrances of mercy. We are omnipresent in the moment we claim but can peace remain within us as our faithful companion. My heart says yes it will. Your life is a gift to us and your courage its rich mirth.