Tuesday, April 11, 2023
To the Davis family,
I am very sad to learn of Lorraine's death.
She and I belonged to the same writing group for some years, and in the years thereafter, although her health was fragile by then, we also occasionally met in Sparta, at the cafe a few times, and once or twice took a leisurely little stroll along the boardwalk.
She gave me a copy of her father's book, "The Yarn of the Mitten"---the sort of gift one never forgets.
And I gave her book of poems, "Going Back to Retrieve It," as a Christmas present to a couple I know, whom Lorraine and I chanced to meet on the boardwalk one afternoon.
There seemed to me to be a certain dependable lightness in her poetry, all the more striking because the subject matter in much of her work did not lend itself to lightness.
I learned the word "creel" from her.
One Thanksgiving, she and Bob invited me to dinner with them, which was terribly kind, as they knew I'd otherwise be alone.
To Bob---who may not remember me, but he and Lorraine took me on an unforgettable day trip to the huge lake that I can't spell or pronounce, and that they knew so much history about---and to Heather, and to (perhaps the memory of) beautiful little Kahlua and, let us say, strong-willed "Mama Cat," who was ridiculously sweet to me---my condolences.
May Lorraine rest in peace.