Eva Zeisel, ceramic artist, died yesterday at the age of 105. I was sad to hear it, though not overly surprised. I mean, 105. I'd heard her story and blogged about it a year and a half ago.
One of the things I love about obituaries is hearing the stories. I just wish I heard more of the stories--or were more attentive to them--while people were still alive.
On the other hand, would I have been saddened about Eva Ziesel's death had I only heard about her for the first time today? It's the knowing people and losing them that's heartbreaking. But more heartbreaking still, knowing people but sticking to the surface of things, not finding out until they are gone what went into the shapes and contours of their lives, the things I could have known.
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