My beloved father-in-law, Sam McCready, slipped away from us late last night. In his last days his son Richard played music for him and his wife Joan read to him the poetry of William Butler Yeats. He was surrounded by family. We held his hand, we embraced him, we offered up the kinds of prayers and love and good thoughts that open the way for a safe journey.
He was a storyteller, as I have said, but he was also an actor. And for him this little theatre that is my blog will remain dark today in his memory.
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