An Email from Another Friend of Muffs

I just found this email from a lovely former Marshalltown resident, Valerie, who knew and loved Muff and was also saddened by her loss. She found this blog and sent me this wonderful email on April 3, but I've been so busy I haven't checked my gmail account for two weeks. Thankfully, Valerie agreed to let me post this letter, and in subsequent emails, has said that she believes Muff is my guardian angel. I hope she's right.

DeAnn:

I just visited your blog on Muff for the first time. I recently connected with one old drama club friend, which led to BJ, and another and another. I too had the privilege of being a friend of Muff & BJ's in high school. Muff and I and another friend (Brian Peters) started a brief-lived mime troupe - which shocked all who knew me as a great talker.

I couldn't wait to leave M'town and did in 1981 and soon lost touch with all but family. I eventually moved back to Marshalltown in 1995 and was thrilled to meet her at Hastings one day! We didn't pal around as I was swamped with a new baby and 2 other children and an extended aging family, as well as our new son being terribly ill for a long diagnosing period with near-death experiences for him, my husband, and then loosing his mom and my dad all within 6 mo's. in 1999. I was also trying to get my BA degree and we moved to TX.

I learned of Muff's death from the high school reunion memorial page and was shocked beyond horror! But somehow, now that I can read your beautiful words on a precious person that I lost touch with for so many years, brings back all the goodness of hope that Muff (and BJ) always made me feel. Not knowing her for the college years and our younger adult life and seeing it from your eyes is refreshingly familiar.

I found myself saying, "yup, that was just like Muff!" so many times through my tears. I am oddly comforted by one (and only one) fact, that she went as gently out of this world as she passed through it. Like an angel's whisper in a baby's ear. Not being torn from us in a long-suffering and pain-filled way - brings the only thing near comfort in an otherwise unfair-as-hell lifestory of such a beloved and lovely person.

I just wanted to say thank you for what you are doing there and to wish you years of the ability to do it!

Thank you,

Valerie (Prochaska) Purcell

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.