Private message to Penelope Clearwater
Jul. 27th, 2014 10:55 amPenny, dear,
I am sending this to you with the fervent hope that our owl reached you last night. I didn't want you to learn from anyone else, or worse yet, from the obituary, which will be printed tomorrow in the Prophet.
But if the owl has not managed to find you in time, then I must say it again. We lost Percy yesterday in a hunting accident at the Snowdonia Resort.
The news is all the more difficult because Percy was estranged from his family, for the most part, when he died. When we were informed yesterday, I want you to know that my thoughts did turn very quickly to you. It was a matter of great sadness to both Arthur and myself when the two of you parted ways. Although Percy did not tell us much about the circumstances, Arthur and I suspect that he did not treat you with the kindness and respect that you deserved.
Sometimes the rituals we follow at times of death--especially an unexpected death of someone young--are more for us, the living. Percy and I could not heal the breach between us while he lived. But he was my son, and I loved him. The only thing I can do to make peace with him now is to observe the customs to honor his departing. The beehives have been informed and turned, the clocks stopped, and the mirrors covered. Bill has contacted the coroner's office so we expectthe bod Percy to be released today, and we will be holding a vigil tonight and tomorrow night. Not at the Burrow, though. It will be at my property at 25 Avenue Road in New London. The funeral will be Tuesday--the details will be in the paper.
Penny, I don't know whether you want to be there, and if you don't I would entirely understand. But there was a time I hoped that you might be my daughter-in-law, and I still think of you fondly.
If you need to make your peace with my son, I wanted to let you know that you would be very welcome to join us, including at the all night vigil for the family.
I am sending this to you with the fervent hope that our owl reached you last night. I didn't want you to learn from anyone else, or worse yet, from the obituary, which will be printed tomorrow in the Prophet.
But if the owl has not managed to find you in time, then I must say it again. We lost Percy yesterday in a hunting accident at the Snowdonia Resort.
The news is all the more difficult because Percy was estranged from his family, for the most part, when he died. When we were informed yesterday, I want you to know that my thoughts did turn very quickly to you. It was a matter of great sadness to both Arthur and myself when the two of you parted ways. Although Percy did not tell us much about the circumstances, Arthur and I suspect that he did not treat you with the kindness and respect that you deserved.
Sometimes the rituals we follow at times of death--especially an unexpected death of someone young--are more for us, the living. Percy and I could not heal the breach between us while he lived. But he was my son, and I loved him. The only thing I can do to make peace with him now is to observe the customs to honor his departing. The beehives have been informed and turned, the clocks stopped, and the mirrors covered. Bill has contacted the coroner's office so we expect
Penny, I don't know whether you want to be there, and if you don't I would entirely understand. But there was a time I hoped that you might be my daughter-in-law, and I still think of you fondly.
If you need to make your peace with my son, I wanted to let you know that you would be very welcome to join us, including at the all night vigil for the family.