Journal entry by Kristen MacConnell —
Of all who move through the quiet houses,
you are the quietest.
We become so accustomed to you
we no longer look up
when your shadow falls over the book we are reading
and makes it glow. For all things
sing you: at times
we just hear them more clearly.
Often when I imagine you
your wholeness cascades into many shapes.
You run like a herd of luminous deer
and I am dark. I am forest.
You are a wheel at which I stand,
whose dark spokes sometimes catch me up,
revolve me nearer to the center.
Then all the work I put my hand to
widens from turn to turn.
When you look at waves off of the coast of York, Maine remember our dad. He loved the ocean and the community he built in York. It was a very special place to him and his final resting resting place.
Please check the York Weekly this Wednesday for an obituary. You can read a longer obituary here. We kindly ask that no flowers be sent as there will be no service. If you would like to do something to honor our father, please make a donation to one of these three organizations on his behalf: The York Public Library, AARP, or Maine Public Radio.
With our deepest appreciation,
Kristen and Jennifer
kristenmacconnell@gmail.com
jenmacconnell@gmail.com