When the Sunday paper arrives, Joel grabs the funnies and I grab a section called “Insight” which includes commentaries, political endorsements, puzzles and “Life Tributes” (which, I guess, is a nicer way of saying “Obituaries”) I’m at the age where I do run into a name I recognize every now and then but more often I run into the names of people I wish I’d known.

For example, a writer by the N. Scott Momaday died last month. His name didn’t ring any bells and it should have. I mean, among his many honors he did win the Pulitzer Prize for his debut novel House Made of Dawn.

The title of this blog is from Momaday’s poem If I could ascend.

Something like a leaf lies here within me;/ it wavers almost not at all,/ and there is no light to see it by/ that it withers upon a black field./ If it could ascend the thousand years into my mouth,/I would make a word of it at last,/ and I would speak it into the silence of the sun.

And so I have another author to discover.

Besides Dr. Momaday, the world lost Simone whose “greatest legacy was the people she raised who are kind, caring and productive.” And the world lost Court Appointed Special Advocate, Artie, who was “quick witted and playful and adored children.” And Dolly whose “door was always open. Dolly’s kitchen was always open. Dolly’s heart was always open.” And Jim, whose “unconventional teaching tactics and personal touch inspired students to read with insight and write with purpose.” There are many more wonderful folks but I will end with Julio whose “generosity was boundless, helping all those that he met each day” and Lee who “loved to say he was swimming in a sea of friends and what a sea it was.” Ah, swimming in a sea of friends. Just that phrase tells you a lot about someone, doesn’t it?