I have wanted to update you on what needs to be a short fermata in my blog posts. New readers have joined from Uruguay, Kenya and Iraq bringing my stories to over 90 countries. I know you enjoy these posts and gratified beyond belief.

Don’t worry, there are many more stories on the way this Autumn.

But if you remember, Jan and I returned to the Berkshires this summer for a family wedding.

My father-in-law turned 90 last week but remains in very frail health, stable and comfortable for the time being. However my wife’s Aunt, Elaine Bass, passed away on October 3 after a few years of extended suffering, as much time in a hospital as out.

So it’s time for a short fermata for these posts.

And about those times out of the hospital for Elaine, nothing was more joyous than her being well and overcoming the odds to be at the wedding for her granddaughter Rebecca in June.

And though social media gives us many portals for communication, I’m also confident that privacy is in one’s personal arsenal of decisions. Grief is best in private, I’m afraid. I will be picking up the thread of my blog in a few weeks. I appreciate your readership but wanted my personal silence to not be hidden from this public voice.

Elaine loved great food. You know you’re alive by getting hungry. Grief brings its own odd energy. I’ve often been amazed at how hungry it makes me. Perhaps it’s my body asserting itself that, for whatever reason, I should keep going. Though one never knows what the right thing to do is during these testing moments of life transition.

So with great joy will I remember going to John Andrews Restaurant in South Egremont, MA with Elaine and her husband Marvin Bass and their niece, my wife Jan.  If you want American common sense farm to table cuisine in a great setting, plan to make a reservation someday.

And so once again food becomes the link of memory to our relatives, our experiences, our lives.  And what food does for our bodies, music does for our souls. So it seems to me when I try to make sense out of the reality of Planet Earth.

Rushing is always a harbinger of imminent defeat. Marlon Brando was right. Just because they say “Action!” doesn’t mean you have to do anything. And thinking of Hollywood, as I recall this gem of advice from a man who changed his world, and ours, makes me think of Mae West.

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once should be enough.”

Destiny is where memory takes over and guides us, comforts us. I will look forward to writing again soon.  After all, Elaine would be annoyed at me if I didn’t get back to work!

Best, best, best,

Jeff