Greetings - especially to those of you who knew our son, Jonathan Troxel, Yesterday, June 6, Jonathan suffered a cardiac arrest (triggered by asthma attacks possibly exacerbated by the air pollution from the Canadian wildfires) and died. He has had asthma since he was child. He began having strong problems with his breathing last Thursday, saw a doctor on Saturday, but still continued to have issues. Before going to work Tuesday, he texted us that he had another asthma attack, but was feeling better and proceeded to go to work. After he had walked the one block to work at the Admiral at the Lake Retirement Center, he told his staff colleagues that he was breathless and collapsed. All the nurses from the Admiral, the EMT paramedics and the hospital ER team were not able to revive him. This of course has been a great shock to our lives - Jim and I as well as Jonathan’s wife, Elizabeth. We are in the midst of deciding what are the appropriate ways to celebrate his life. Although we don’t know who is reading this email, you too may have had experiences of death that you have wrestled with how to celebrate the life of your loved one. We thought sharing about Jonathan through the Dialogues was one way to celebrate. If Jonathan knew you, he loved you. Any time someone would visit Jim and I, he wanted to see them too. He loved his experiences as a child in the Order, singing “Try to Remember” in the Student House, and was disappointed when Jim and I left the Order community. He has been pleased that Jim and I have re-engaged with the ICA. In the past couple of years he has enjoyed working with the Phase I files of the Global Archives in order to have them put on its website. And he has kept up with the lives of many who have transitioned from this life. Now he is among them. Jim, Elizabeth and I are grateful for the messages and phone calls we have received. Each and every one is meaningful to us. Thank you. Take good care of yourselves, especially in these days of uncertain air quality or illnesses. Life is precious and mysterious. Peace and love, Karen and Jim Troxel