Ik zou nog een aantal dingen van de Jordan blog kopieren:
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From Harriet
Posted by Harriet on September 22nd, 2007 in the Robert Jordan's Blog category
Dear Everyone,
He has gone where pain and suffering are no more.
Whenever he was able to be at the computer, he checked the blog first thing. Your e-mails REALLY MATTERED to him. He loved them … and I think in some sense he loved you all.
I never thanked you for all my birthday messages, but I do now. We had a nice party…about a dozen people, ranging in age from 4 months to 82 years, sitting around the dining room table which had been covered with lots of newspaper, picking our own lovely boiled local shrimp, eating corn on the cob and homemade biscuits , and later eating watermelon; a good deal of white wine went down our gullets, too. I should add, no cooking was done by me. My dearest first cousin, also named Harriet (we’re both named for her mother), did it all, just about.
It was a happy time. Jim made it so.
He came like the wind, like the wind touched everything, and like the wind was gone.
These are words Jim said to me several books ago, in the weary but always thrilling hours of putting the manuscript to bed, ready to carry to New York in the morning — I remember grabbing a piece of discarded script and scrawling those words up the margin, because they were so beautiful. He was talking about Rand. I of course am not.
I know he touched all of you. Thanks for being there.
Here is his final interview, given to the local newspaper. Notice the date:
Robert Jordan aims to get back on feet
By Bill Thompson
Thursday,September 13, 2007
Jim Rigney intends to “keep marching to the horizon.” Stage One is getting back on his feet.
Known to millions of readers as Robert Jordan, the best-selling author of “The Wheel of Time” fantasy series continues to cross swords with the rare blood disease amyloidosis, a progressive disorder he was first diagnosed with in December 2005 at the Medical University of South Carolina.
Subsequently, the author has been undergoing treatment at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn.
Rigney reports that with the help of the Mayo Clinic, he is keeping things under control.
“My numbers are still good, in the normal range. We will be going back up to the Mayo in about a month and we’ll see what the status is. Now I just have to get my foot healed up so I have a chance of getting out of this wheelchair. Strange to think that my foot, of all things, would be giving me the most trouble. It’s getting better, but unfortunately the amyloidosis makes healing go very slowly.
“When I get the foot better then I can start on the process of walking again. I hope to do this in another two or three months.”
While there has been no improvement in heart function and no change in his overall prognosis as of June, Rigney says improvement remains possible. And he’s determined.
“I’ve got promises to keep.”
And he did march, guys. He marched toward that horizon until he crossed it, where we cannot follow yet.
The word now, the only possible word, is Onward.
Go for it. With love.
Consider yourselves hugged.
Harriet
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Jason's post about the funeral you have to read for yourself. There are lot's of pics there:
http://www.dragonmount.com/RobertJordan/?p=92--------------------------------------------
From Will
Posted by Jason on September 28th, 2007 in the Robert Jordan's Blog category
The following was written by Will McDougal, who is Harriet’s son and Robert Jordan’s step-son. He was kind enough to share these experiences with us.
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Thank you for all your support. James Oliver Rigney was a remarkable man. I am proud to have known him, to have been raised by him and to know him as a father.
I wrote the following 2 days after he passed away. It seemed to me that some readers might like to know some of the following. Thanks again for your support.
The death of Jim is undeniable. His absence is undeniable.
His presence is absent from my life like a mountain might be over time. but with Jim, it was in three hours.
I arrived 10am, my cousin Mary somehow pulled strings at airport. She was able to park Jim’s car at the curb of the terminal building and then get to the gate to meet me so that we could get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
I took turns with others and sat with him on and off for 4 or 5 hours. He was incapable of speech. Somehow he had developed a fever but it was unclear what the reason was. They gave him every test to determine the reason. Tom Jones called. I put him on speakerfone and held the phone to Jim’s ear. TJ told him that he loved him and wished he was there. Jim definitely responded as though he recognized Tom’s voice. He smiled and closed his eyes, and I think he felt Tom’s love.
This fever, on top of myriad critical breakdowns, was killing him. Occasionally, he trembled as though extremely alarmed. I think he was having nightmares.
I kept wiping his forehead with a damp cool towel. I held his hand. I encouraged him to rest easy. I told him I loved him.
In a little while his breathing began to slow.
There were many of us there, his family. Only two people were allowed at a time as visitors to see him. Will [Wilson] and my mother were with Jim - I had been asleep in the waiting room. They woke and got me. He had died.
His breathing had kept slowing. He had begun to die and he did die very peacefully. His breathing simply stopped.
It was obvious when I saw his body. He was gone. This tremendous man had moved on. I knew that this body on the bed had been Jim. I knew that the fire which moved him, which was Jim, was no longer in that body.
I knew that the loss of the fire of his life was who I mourned. His presence. His force.
What a wild ! and ferocious spirit. What a fire.
James Oliver Rigney was a great man of mind and heart. He loved learning and he loved spinning yarns. He was extremely playful and would become a cast of different characters. He occasionally became the character of the drunken Irish butler who was contractually bound to live under the stairs. The one who had to confess he had been watering the whisky, but only moderately, and never on the Sabbath. He had an immaculate Irish accent. His singing voice was beautiful. He loved to sing sea-chantys and anything else. He sang loud and strong and clear. On holidays and dinner parties he would sing for hours.
He was a very funny man. And what I think I loved most about his sense of humor was how funny He thought his jokes were. Not that he was a bad joke teller! He could spin some of the most absurd stories, which might begin quite casually and matter-of-factly. Upon delivery of the punch line or if he realized that my adolescent gullability had waned, sometimes his face would turn bright red and he would laugh intensly, and silently, as though the mirth in it, if given voice, would knock out the walls of the house. His belly bouncing.
He would tell me the sad stories of the Nauga. I was 11 or 12. He spoke about “the huge numbers of those doomed rodents — all slaughtered to make so many couches and chairs.” That was a perrenial favorite of his. Explaining where naugahyde came from. That, and his suggestions that the “barrel-method” was optimal for rearing children. “It’s quite simple, you see. You deposit the child in the barrel when he remains, if a boy, until his 35th birthday.” She-children, of course, realeased upon their 18th birthday. He used to smoke a custom blend of tobacco in a pipe, one of hundreds of pipes he had collected. He was clear with his strategy for health as a result of smoking. “You see,” he began, “I intend to become as though a creosote log, coated in tar and hence impregnable to nature’s wear and tear.” In short he would finish that of this he “was certain.” Under the brim of his dark fedora I could see the light in his eye and it was a playful light. I can see him now. I love you Jim.
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More from Harriet
Posted by Harriet on September 30th, 2007 in the Robert Jordan's Blog category
Dear all,
Over a hundred people e-mailed condolences to the undertaker in Charleston. There is no way to respond on that site, and I just can’t do individual responses. I hope that those who wrote there also read the blog — thank you all for your very kind messages. I’ve read them all, and so has Will, and I’ve sent them on to Reynolds and Wilson.
The word now is ONWARD.
With love, Harriet
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than more
http://www.dragonmount.com/RobertJordan/?p=95
