The blog will be on auto pilot for a few days, as I've just received some bad news and will be heading home to be with my family. I've got enough posts scheduled to tide you over through the weekend, but I apologize in advance for not being able to respond to your comments, tweets, and emails right away.
I'm not in the habit of writing depressing posts, as this blog is purely meant for frivolous, materialistic fun, but I felt like giving a public shout out to my late great uncle, who will be dearly missed not only for his unbelievable generosity, infectious warmth, heart-melting kindnesses, and uncommon brilliance, but also for his taste. I've mentioned it before, but the man possessed charm, wit, and style in spades. A learned scholar and former university professor, he ardently extolled the virtues of education and culture without seeming the least bit preachy, and on our visits to Pakistan, would always be excited to talk about what we were learning in school, where we'd been traveling, the books we were reading, the music we loved. Energized by conversations with young minds, he was always ready to proffer a fresh, keenly insightful perspective and lend a philosophical bent to just about any topic we could dream up. Leading by example, he encouraged us to soak up as much of knowledge, language, and relationships as we could, and the gleam in his eye promised us that our lives would be richer for it.
We grew up seeing photographs of him fashionably gallivanting about London in the 50's, heard tales of his exploits in Paris in the 60's, and watched him ripen into old age with enviable elegance and admirable grace. Though his health deteriorated, old age didn't seem to tear down the legend he'd become in our minds. In memory, I suppose he will remain the spirited, charismatic, wickedly dapper curiosity-seeker we all aim to be. I wish I had a photo to show you -- I'll try to pick one up to scan when I go home.
During one of my last conversations with him (shouted into speakerphone, as is my family's custom for calls to Pakistan), he asked me if I had a fresh flower in my apartment. When I replied in the negative, he insisted that I should always keep a single flower in a glass, explaining that all the girls in Paris, way back when, had them in their single lady apartments. It made me laugh out loud and wonder just how well he'd gotten to know all those Parisiennes. I liked the idea, however, and I think I'll take his suggestion.
Some fields of inspiration, via A Field Journal:
I'm very sorry about the sad news. Beautiful post, good idea about the flowers and gorgeous photos. In the end, uplifting.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for your kind words. He really meant a lot to my family. I know nothing about flowers, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them my way!
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ReplyDeletethank you, i'll check it out. the snaps are not mine -- they're from A Field Journal (http://afieldjournal.blogspot.com)
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ReplyDeleteIt is absolutely disgusting that anyone would even think of trying to advertise their florist business here, after a loving tribute I wrote about the loss of someone who meant a great deal to me. You are repulsive and your comments will be deleted immediately. I will never use your service and will spread the word about your greedy, opportunistic marketing practices to everyone I know. For all those who are reading this, please do NOT use Send Flowers to Pakistan!
ReplyDeleteDO NOT USE any of the following. They go around the internet looking for articles/blog posts about people who have friends and relatives in Pakistan who have died, and then take advantage of them by posting links and advertisements to their business. Please warn your friend and family about them.
ReplyDeleteExpress Gift Service
Send Gift Pakistan