John Caspell, Paul’s younger brother, known on this blog as Dr. Filk, died today in hospital. Lady Miss B was in the room when they called the code. She called us to the hospital – where we had been planning to visit him this afternoon – but it was too late when we got there. We said our goodbyes.
All of us here are numb. Lady Miss B’s husband is about to pick her up and take her back to Vancouver; Paul and I and Keith have one more piece of business to attend to and then we’ll be going back on the 9 o’clock.
I am still giving the homily at church tomorrow but I think I will make room for people to say a few words about John, who was, after all, one of the more interesting, colourful and intelligent people most of us will ever have the chance to meet. It was a privilege to know him.
mOm and pOp have a full house so Keith, Paul and I are in a bed and breakfast about five minutes’ drive from their house. Sometime in the next half an hour I’m going to get up and abandon the joys of free wireless internet and get dressed and go downstairs to breakfast, which starts around 7:30. Then we’ll go visit Granny, and then the parents, and then Dr Filk.
Lady Miss Banjola, who is unabashedly anxious to speak to her long time musical partner and see for herself how he’s doing, joined us for the trip across the Strait (and dinner) last night. Dr. Filk’s accident aside she appears to be doing famously, and I look forward to her album release later this summer (details about the album and its acquisition will be posted at that time).
The B&B is a suburban house. I don’t know where this bed came from, but it’s the best bed for sleeping, both in terms of the pillows and the mattress, that I can recollect in many moons. My bed at home feels like a rock pile by comparison.
I think I’m getting an abscessed tooth. Grr.
I miss la Margot and Eddie and Gizmo.
I will report on Dr. Filk after I’ve seen him, but Pondside denizens report that the orthopod states that the foot operation went absolutely as well as could be hoped for the range of the injuries and the condition of the patient. Don’t know if it’s true, but that sure sounds hopeful. The drunk who t-boned him on his Burgmann has assumed 100% of the responsibility.
Looking forward to the homily tomorrow….