Dear Warwick residents (and others),
A fund is being established through the Salvation Army to take donations to
assist Scott and Vivian in this tragedy. Please contact David Young, Town
Coordinator (coordinator@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx) for information on how to make
donations.
Cheri and I are greatly saddened by the deaths of Lucinda and her four
children. Vivian took lessons with Cheri for about three years. Her mom,
Lucinda, took piano for a year, though she missed lessons because she was
too tired; and Demi had just started lessons a month ago and was so excited
about it. Those little girls and I, and Lucinda, sat in the kitchen while
they waited for their turns in the studio.
Lucinda asked me about town politics (she was on the Board of Health) or
talked about her work as a nurse in a long term care facility. One evening
we talked about the long drawn out deaths of people with Alzheimer's, and
how uncaring it seemed. She'd just gotten a desk job after doing rounds,
seeing patients, and she already found it boring. She did look more rested
than I'd seen her in a long time. As a full-time nurse (or getting her
degree) and the mother of five kids, she was always tired. She always had a
20 ounce cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee when she came to the house.
While their mom had her lesson in the studio, in the kitchen with me, by
the woodstove, the little girls chatted about our ducks or Teeka, our cat.
Vivian and Demi LOVED their four cats. One afternoon Vivian and I wandered
through the garden while she told me all about how Puzzle, Mocha, Latte,
and Mittens came to be with them; and by the way, Puzzle was going to have
kittens!
Vivian is cutely bashful. Last summer I was working on the woodpile while
she was waiting for mom to get done with her lesson, the notes of the piano
tinkling out the window. While I swung the maul, ching! and split cordwood
I glanced over at Vivian as she teetered along the trunk of a spruce,
recently felled. I was afraid she'd fall, so I said, "Vivian, come on over
here and sit down."
"Where? There's no where to sit."
I quickly stacked chunks of unsplit wood into a chair complete with arms
and a back, stuck two leafy branches out the top and said, "There's your
throne. You'll be queen for today."
She laughed and sat down for a minute. When Lucinda came out she had to
take a picture of her daughter on her throne. That's when I found out
Vivian is bashful. She blushed pink and couldn't stop giggling.
It was a few wonderful moments, with a lovely mother and child, that I will
never forget.
I believe that those who died in the fire--Lucinda, Nicholas, Martin, Demi,
and Peter--will all be waiting for Vivian and Scott to join them, when they
too are free of this mortal coat. I don't think that reunion in the future,
however, will ease their grief a jot right now, and Vivian won't be in the
mood to giggle for a long time.
Gordon Ellis, in his sermon this morning, quoted William Sloan Coffin when
he said (and I paraphrase) that God's heart is the first break when tragedy
strikes. Maybe so. But that doesn't make me feel any better. I think only
time will heal the wounds to our lives and our community.
Sadness and grief are the measure of our love for those we lose. Scott and
Lucinda built a wonderful family. All of the Seagos, where ever they are,
will miss the lives they had here with us, in Warwick...and we will miss
them. And it will hurt.
