Sunday, 2 September 2012
10 years ago I awoke earlier than was my wont at the time (and is still; like Tolkien, I am not a ''morning person''), and ran downstairs into the living room. My parents were seated together, my mother at the telephone table, my father in his armchair, both with grave faces. I stopped, and my father gave me the news that my grandfather had died of the cancer in his stomach, at ten minutes past five of the clock that morning. He was three weeks shy of his 78th birthday.
It is also the 39th anniversary of J.R.R Tolkien's death. I cannot really add to anything I said last year, or the year before, but of your charity I would ask you to pray for my family, and for Tolkien and his family. No long quotes or insights or anything this year; I am rather preoccupied with my own thoughts. The 75th anniversary of The Hobbit is coming up soon, so it seems fitting to start reading.
In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek succour, but of Thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death!
I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, from henceforth blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; even so saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labours.