Dear Calder Family, I watched the funeral for Sylvia wishing I could be there but not able to come. Your tributes to her were lovely and made me think of a lovely poem of Lauris Edmond which I would like to share with you all. Late Song It's a still morning, quiet and cloudy. the kind of grey day I like best; they'll be here soon, the little kids first, creeping up to try and frighten me, then the tall young men, the slim boy with the marvelous smile, the dark girl subtle and secret; and the others, the parents, my children, my friends-- and I think: these truly are my weather my grey mornings and my rain at night, my sparkling afternoons and my birdcall at daylight; they are my game of hide and seek, my song that flies from a high window. They are my dragonflies dancing on silver water. Without them I cannot move forward, I am a broken signpost, a train fetched up on a small siding, a dry voice buzzing in the ears; for they are my blunders and my forgiveness for blundering,, my road to the stars and my seagrass chair in the sun. They fly where I cannot follow and I ---I am their branches, their tree. My song is of the generations, it echoes The old dialogue of the years; it is the tribal chorus that no one may sing alone. With love and deep sympathy.....I will miss her very much. Love Josie