Roger of Belden Abbey

Sent the 26 of June, 2011

Gentle and noble cousins, I send forth unto you sad tidings.

Roger (called the Redundant Roger), Abbot of Belden Abbey, was called away to meet his Maker last night, about an hour and a half after I had kissed him goodnight and left him to the healers who had him in care. I am told that it was, at the last, very suddenly over, although it took its own time getting to that end.

As many of you know, Roger Roger has not been well for some time. First his kidneys failed, and he had to have his blood filtered until the healers could transplant him a new one from his brother David - back in AS 36 (CE 2001). The filtering to purify his blood was so debilitating that Roger Roger never entirely recovered his physical vigor afterward. Not that it affected the vigor of his intellect or his humor ... as many of you will no doubt remember! Then in AS 43 (CE 2008) Roger Roger was told that he was ill with a paralytic disease known among healers as ALS. He was able to go to An Tir Twelfth Night the next January; that was the last event he could attend.

As the months passed, he lost the ability to continue his extensive correspondence without help, then the ability to speak, to dictate to me any further outgoing correspondence. He never lost his mind, though, nor his memory, nor his sense of humor. Cousins, he missed you much, and waited eagerly for every day's mail, which I faithfully took to his bedside. I would like to thank those of you (you know who you are) who sent him cards, letters, emails, etc. and those who stopped by to see him. He enjoyed the correspondence and the visits very much, and it made his helpless absence from the halls of the Current Middle Ages more tolerable.

And cousins, he never lost that sweet, funny caring he felt for so many of you, either. I believe he still cares about you, and always will; love doesn't quit, and according to his mother, Roger Roger has been blessed stubborn for a lot longer than I have known him.

For those of you who have been telling me to look after myself, and been concerned for me personally, I am holding on at this writing. I'm having little fits of weeping, but grief has not stolen my mind. As I write this, Roger Roger is just over three hours gone, and I do not yet know when I will be able to arrange for remembrance gatherings. I will write again when I have it arranged.

God bless you all, dear cousins.

Writ at Belden Abbey, some time between Matins (midnight) and Lauds (first light before sunrise).

Sister Guineth