Dear Daryl

(To the memory of Daryl Kauffman, an extraordinary man and superlative neighbor in every sense of the word.)

Dear Daryl,

The past several months have witnessed terrible changes in our world. The life we knew, the lives we knew, have all been turned upside-down. In the midst of a global pandemic, as the world’s greatest experiments in democracy seem to slide toward the dark side of authoritarianism, among the thousands of people around the world who died yesterday, Sunday, 26 July, the world lost a truly loving soul.

You are gone from us.

It’s impossible to read anyone’s heart, I admit. But with you what we saw you do, what we heard you say and so very importantly what you did told us what we needed to know about you. You were, are, a GOOD MAN. Period.

A father, husband, friend and neighbor, those words are just the beginning. Since Susan and I have known you, five years now, you have have spent every day helping others, making life a bit easier for those who couldn’t do for themselves. You did it with a smile on your lips. Your one goal in life seemed, simply enough, to make this place a better world.

But your race, as they say, is run. Your sufferings of this world are behind you. You have truly earned a “rest in peace.”

I believe I speak for so many when I say thank you, Daryl. For helping, for serving, and for being here with us.

Steve Soper
Susan VandenBerg

Update from Grand Rapids

A bar at the Folies-Bergère, 1882, by Edouard Manet

I began this series as a weekly journal of the pandemic seen from our corner of the planet. By the end of week six however, I was too depressed. Here we are at over four months now and the only thing that has changed is the pandemic has simply worsened, at least in this part of North America.  I just wanted to forget that the world's greatest democracy seemed bent on sliding inexorably into fascism.

Still, life, as they are fond of saying, goes on and so do most of us.

My mother-in-law has been in near-total lockdown in Pilgrim Manor, an assisted living facility, for the past 16 weeks. But thankfully she is well and in good spirits.

Beginning July 1 the facility ( I hate that word) arranged for families to have  30-minute "porch visits" with their loved ones. That very afternoon Susan and I sat outside under an umbrella while Bernice sat in the other side of the glass door and we spoke using a wireless intercom system. Although it felt somewhat like talking to someone in prison, it worked surprisingly well and she could hear us just fine. We plan to do another visit later this week.

Although we rarely go anywhere other than to the grocery store or haircuts, we have spent several afternoons out at the Ten Have compound at nearby Clear Lake, enjoying meals with several of Susie's cousins and their families. A genuine blessing to escape the news and the hubbub and just relax by a quiet lake and reflect on the important things in the world: love and family.

Plans for driving to Watertown, New York to visit family have been cancelled and we're closely watching developments in Arizona, wondering how they might affect our October trip to the Grand Canyon.

We were sad to learn recently that one of Susan's cousins and her husband have both been diagnosed with Covid-19. The good news is they are slowly recovering.

On a somewhat less sombre note, although a cemetery is involved, you'll nevertheless enjoy Carolyn Barnabo's lucidly passionate discussion of French Impressionist Berthe Morisot, her daughter and their final resting place in Passy Cemetery, Paris.

Susie continues to bake, providing delectable treats for neighbors, family and a few clients who pop up now and then. Recently I got my hands on one of her croissants before and after they became croissant aux amandes. . .

Oh, and one last thing. Whether or not you make your own face mask, this is definitely worth watching through to the end. Trust me.