(no subject)
Sep. 17th, 2007 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanI did not meet Jim Rigney at Mike Ford's memorial service. I was too shy to introduce myself. I got to meet a lot of people I was too shy to introduce myself to by handing out programs, but Jim and Harriet were in the service and didn't need me to hand them anything.
Mike talked about them from very early on in our acquaintance. He was ordinarily very good at noticing when he had not adequately explained something that he said, but he talked of Jim and Harriet as one talks of one's family, if one has a good one -- as people who are there always, explaining whom is not contemplated. He told us a lot about visiting them in Charleston -- cat stories, house-sitting stories, stories of discovering amazing things on the walls and in the corners. He did not say that they were wonderful or had been good to him. That was the bedrock. He told funny stories and serious stories, all grounded on that. Once he told David and me that we should really meet them, because they were the kind of hosts who could make anybody feel at ease. We struggled with schedules for a few discussions, but David and I had our own family obligations for the holidays, and it never worked out.
It took me months, maybe years, to discover that Jim Rigney was Robert Jordan. I think somebody other than Mike had to tell me. Mike talked about the books, too, in a way conditioned by the usual percentage of snarkiness you get when someone's work is very successful. He had a list of their strengths and virtues that would rattle out of him like the plot of a well-loved movie.
Jim Rigney spoke at Mike's memorial service. He had a huge personality. Mike had one too, but Mike had qualities that were familiar to me because my father's side of the family was Welsh, in a particular way. Like my father, Mike gave out his personality in gleams and sparks, until you figured out how to get him to take the blind off the window, and then you were looking at exploding galaxies. I am not saying that Jim Rigney had no hidden depths, because I know that he did; but even so ill as he was last year, in a wheelchair, he seemed enormous, and bursting with life. He made us laugh and cry at once.
P.
Mike talked about them from very early on in our acquaintance. He was ordinarily very good at noticing when he had not adequately explained something that he said, but he talked of Jim and Harriet as one talks of one's family, if one has a good one -- as people who are there always, explaining whom is not contemplated. He told us a lot about visiting them in Charleston -- cat stories, house-sitting stories, stories of discovering amazing things on the walls and in the corners. He did not say that they were wonderful or had been good to him. That was the bedrock. He told funny stories and serious stories, all grounded on that. Once he told David and me that we should really meet them, because they were the kind of hosts who could make anybody feel at ease. We struggled with schedules for a few discussions, but David and I had our own family obligations for the holidays, and it never worked out.
It took me months, maybe years, to discover that Jim Rigney was Robert Jordan. I think somebody other than Mike had to tell me. Mike talked about the books, too, in a way conditioned by the usual percentage of snarkiness you get when someone's work is very successful. He had a list of their strengths and virtues that would rattle out of him like the plot of a well-loved movie.
Jim Rigney spoke at Mike's memorial service. He had a huge personality. Mike had one too, but Mike had qualities that were familiar to me because my father's side of the family was Welsh, in a particular way. Like my father, Mike gave out his personality in gleams and sparks, until you figured out how to get him to take the blind off the window, and then you were looking at exploding galaxies. I am not saying that Jim Rigney had no hidden depths, because I know that he did; but even so ill as he was last year, in a wheelchair, he seemed enormous, and bursting with life. He made us laugh and cry at once.
P.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 02:43 am (UTC)Thank you.
I'm so glad you posted.
Date: 2007-09-18 02:46 am (UTC)I believe "enormous, and bursting with life" was rather how Mike described him to me.
I was upset about Madeleine L'Engle and now this. Who's next? My husband just said, "this is what happens when you get old". I guess he's right.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 04:28 am (UTC)thank you for sharing your memories.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 04:58 am (UTC)*hug*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 05:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 06:31 am (UTC)- Chica
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 05:58 pm (UTC)But he was a presence, even at that remove.
P.
Re: I'm so glad you posted.
Date: 2007-09-18 05:59 pm (UTC)The timing of all these deaths is difficult.
As for the shyness, yeah. It's so stupid, but it's powerful.
P.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 05:59 pm (UTC)Hugs back.
P.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 06:00 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 06:00 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-18 07:25 pm (UTC)Hug to you too.
P.
I kept thinking that there would be time...
Date: 2007-09-18 09:22 pm (UTC)A lesson I suppose we should all pay attention to.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-19 12:21 am (UTC)- Chica