February 24, 2015, Prescott- This afternoon, I went to a longtime friend’s house, which is in a heavy road construction zone, for a two hour visit. She’s been deathly ill, for some time now, and only prayers, oil blend supplements (to help with pain) and a listening ear can be offered by yours truly. After parking down the hill from her home, and negotiating the mud, above-ground sewer pipes and trenches, I brought in a small gift and heard her recollections of childhood and early adulthood.
She and her loving husband have each had a remarkable and productive life. Her knowledge of antiques has helped preserve a great deal of the heritage central Arizona, and she has contributed much to the Baha’i community here, over more than 40 years. The tradition of elegance that emanates from this little house, on a venerable street in Prescott, will not easily fade.
Visits, especially to the seriously ill, are a key component of any community worthy of the name. Perhaps the worst fate anyone can suffer is to be forgotten. So, as often as we each can, the members of this little community call on one another, and keep a close watch on the ones who can’t get out.
This is actually quite a step forward for yours truly, having been happily in a bubble when I was in my twenties. It’s probably the finest habit imparted to me by my late wife, and she would have been fit to be tied, had I reverted to hermitage.