It feels like each day throws new curves at me, getting in the way of writing my novel and potentially messing up business appointments. The latest was a message from a friend on Facebook that said, “Please live life like there may be no tomorrow. Dad is dead and it is unbelievable. Go hug someone“.

I copied down the message as I went to pick up my two older daughters for brunch before hitting the road back from Mary Baldwin College in Virginia to my home in Connecticut. It is a long drive, and I don’t get to see my older daughters that often.

We ate at Kathy’s, a good local restaurant in Staunton. We had eggs and pancakes and talked. Somehow, the discussion drifted over to One and Three Chairs, by Joseph Kosuth. The piece consists of a chair, a photograph of a chair and the dictionary definition of a chair. We joked around about a post-structuralist Goldielocks seeing the exhibit. First she sat in the physical chair and pronounced it too hard. Then she photoshopped her representation into the photograph of the chair, and pronounced that too soft. Finally she tried to use the definition of ‘chair’ and broke it. We all laughed, although there seemed to be a wistfulness in Mairead’s laughter. We are a family in love with ideas, yet somehow that love seems to have turned bittersweet for Mairead in her latest turmoil.

After brunch as we headed back to campus, I shared with them my friend’s note. As I departed, I gave them a typical farewell hug, with a little extra in memory of George Menard. With a turn of the wheel, I was headed north on I-81, listening to More Tales of the City.

Up in Massachusetts, friends are mourning the loss of a father, father-in-law, and ‘poppy’. I didn’t know George all that well. I met him at a few events, and we had many great talks, especially about his days in the Navy. The idea of a post-structuralist Goldielocks sitting in one of Joseph Kosuth’s chairs at his wake might not have meant as much as it does to my daughters and I, and hopefully to his daughter. Yet the admonition to “please live life like there may be no tomorrow” is something I can see him fully embracing.

Rest In Peace, George Menard