Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Zen teacher's husband died two days ago.  I was deeply fond of him, and he occasionally gave dharma talks himself at retreats.  He also was an expert on the origin of words, and fascinated us with how exciting and powerful words can be.  He was a gallant man, devastated when his wife, our teacher, deteriorated with Alzeimer's, and he lost his confidant and intellectual partner.  Without him she will have to sell their property in a beautiful valley, and move in with our daughter and her partner, or be in a facility.  Though I found a new teacher as she deteriorated, I felt overwhelming gratitude to her, the place they retired, and my many profound experiences there.  Her lessons:  Things Change, Don't Know, and It Takes as Long as it Takes, among others, guide my life.  They had fourteen years retired before he died, and I know he loved it there, made lots of friends, and adored swimming in his pool, with the dogs racing around and barking.  The lesson is dying.  He had a sudden and fast death, which is a blessing for him, but hard for the survivors.  He was brave and loyal and loving to his wife, and his suffering watching her disease advance is at an end.  Even the best of us die, and we must remember to be ever so grateful for the lives we are given.