In Memoriam: A Letter to Nancy’s Family

Rev. Ms. Nancy Patricia Griffin Hughes, 1932 – 2019. Foto from one provided to the public by the family for her obituaries in various newspapers.

This letter was written to the family and friends of Nancy Hughes, the mother of my ex-wife Gwen and grandmother to our two children, Dylan (formerly Morgan) and Kathryn, aka “Kate.” Although she passed in June of this year, her family elected to celebrate her transitions this past October at a wake they dubbed Momfest, held out at the Hughes family cabin at Willow Lake outside Lynchburg, Virginia.

Had hoped to attend and read a version of this letter, and was unable to do so. My printer wouldn’t work, didn’t have everyone’s email addresses, and didn’t wish to burden my ex-wife with reading my letter out loud for me at such an emotional gathering nor make copies to hand out to people. I think she emailed it forward to her siblings, but not everyone in the family knew of the letter. So now this letter is shared here this Xmas Eve for anyone to read. For Nancy was a Gift for the whole world.

Goodbye, Nancy. May the Afterlife be the journey you always imagined it to be. Thank you for sharing your life with so many people from Egypt to Tibet, from Canada to Ireland, from France to all over the United States and elsewhere. Here’s my letter as follows:

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Day Trips with Li’l Butterfly

Remembrance of Journeys Past with my Stepdaughter across the last month of 2008 and the first three months of 2009

Talia debates going to the top of Kite Hill at Magnuson Park, Seattle. Tuesday 31 March 2009.

She was my third and last child, the stepdaughter I read to while she was in her mother’s womb and caught in my hands as she was born after long hours of struggle. Kristina, TaTa’s “Chee Chee Mommastina,” called her daughter, “Little Sitting Buddha Girl,” for she would sit still and quietly observe everything around her with precision and presence. As her “DaDa William,” however, I called her my Li’l Butterfly.

Distant Olympics on a ferry ship sailing across the upper part of Puget Sound as we traversed the Salish Sea, Washington. Sunday 4 January 2009.

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The Little Girl on the Floor

A little girl playing on the floor of the store melted my heart and opened my mind. In doing so she tilted the fabric of spacetime as one would water pour from a pitcher into a drinking glass. Doorways of mind and heart closed momentarily and yet holographically appeared as a line of portals between parallel universes. My timeline felt bifurcated. Both lines vanished into the future as quickly as turning the water tap in the kitchen sink on then off. All drains still lead to the same underground pipe. All was done inadvertently from her end, however, such was her power on those around her. She was one of the most adorable little toddlers I’ve ever been fortunate with whom to engage. This child was not only incredibly cute, but she also demonstrated a degree of presence unusual for any human being. Usually I’m one to shy away from the young children of others. This little girl with shaggy blonde hair, however, reeled me in with her playful curiosity, intense focus, and ability to seemingly anticipate adult commands.

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Atomic Mushroom Clouds at One in the Morning

Sun of Godzilla

Staggered downstairs into the kitchen for a bite to eat, and thru the windows saw a strange, orange yellow red glow growing swiftly on the horizon. Forgot all about nom nom nomming on a post-midnight snack. Felt confused. Fear came alive as I watched the weird glow expand into a raw, giant, golden, Godzilla cloud.

Big windows looked west from the great, long hill in North Seattle called Phinney Ridge. I currently abide there within an old, dilapidated house built over a century ago. Shared it with two other single, divorced guys, too, plus two elderly brothers down below in the daylight basement. From an old, grandma kitchen we could look west over the top of Ballard across the Salish Sea into the Olympic Mountains. The United States of America maintained one of the world’s largest stockpiles of thermonuclear weapons right in the guts of Cascadia just over there across the water from Seattle.

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