The Daily - A New Way to Mourn: An Update

Episode Date: December 29, 2020

This week, The Daily is revisiting some of our favorite episodes from this year and checking in on what has happened since the stories first ran.In our society, the public part of mourning is ritualized by a coming together. What do we do now that the opportunity for collective mourning has been taken away?Earlier this year, we heard the story of Wayne Irwin. A retired minister of the United Church of Canada who lost his wife, Flora May, during the coronavirus pandemic.He never once considered delaying her memorial, opting to celebrate her life over the internet — a new ritual that, as it turned out, felt more authentic and real.Today, we check back in with Wayne to find out how he’s been doing in the months since his wife’s passing.Guest: Catherine Porter, Toronto bureau chief for The New York Times.For an exclusive look at how the biggest stories on our show come together, subscribe to our newsletter. You can read the latest edition here.Background reading:The rituals of our lives have been transformed. An expert on gathering shares advice for birthdays and baby showers in our audio series “Together Apart.”For more information on today’s episode, visit nytimes.com/thedaily

Hey, it's Michael. This week, The Daily is revisiting our favorite episodes of the year, listening back and hearing what's happened in the time since they first ran. Today, the story of the new rituals that we create in a crisis. It's Tuesday, December 29th. It's Tuesday, December 29th. Catherine, I wonder if you can tell me a little bit about what you've been watching from your home in Toronto ever since the pandemic started hitting North America. Well, I have written a lot about death over the years.

It's one of those things that, for whatever reason, reason it interests me and I keep coming back to it. So because I've always been interested in death and written about death, I've been looking through the birth and death notices. And the obits have been really interesting because something that I'd never seen before at the bottom, whether or not the person had died of COVID, many of them have died just of old age or of cancer or whatever else. But at the bottom, whether or not the person had died of COVID, many of them have died just of old age or of cancer or whatever else. But at the bottom, I started to highlight these statements that seemed to repeat themselves over and over again, which were things like, though we cannot celebrate her life now, a happier time will come when we can all come together. Or a celebration of her life will be celebrated when it's safe for us to be together. We will get together when we're allowed to get together.

And so that planted a seed, like a thought in me, like the public part of mourning is ritualized in our society by coming together. We come together and we acknowledge the passing and we have a sense that this is real and we are grieving together. And if this isn't happening or we're delaying this, like, what does that mean? How are people coping without that ritual? Is anyone trying to do this differently? So then I found kind of the perfect person for this.

Who did you find? Can you see us on your computer screen or no? No, I'm sitting, I'm talking on my phone. I've got my wig on straight, but it doesn't matter. Oh, I really wish we could see you then in that case. His name is Wayne Irwin. He's 75. He's a retired minister in a church in Canada called the United Church of Canada. It's kind of the preeminent Protestant church here. Can you tell me, like, why you think funerals are important? The funeral is not for the person who died. The funeral is for the person who remained. the funeral is not for the person who died.

The funeral is for the person who remained. He was a minister for more than 40 years, meaning that he presided over hundreds of funerals. He's sort of a master of ceremonies at a funeral. He knows how they work. He knows the importance of the ritual. And they are a marker for us. They're like a life passage moment that we can remember, okay, the person died, we did that thing.

So now we're in a world after that. But in the 10 years since he retired, he's also been helping churches go online. So he was kind of like the perfect person to move from a funeral in a building into an online funeral. And then something tragic happened in his personal life, and he lost someone very close to him, Fleur May. From The New York Times, I'm Michael Barbaro. This is The Daily. Today. daily, today. My colleague Catherine Porter

on the changing way that we're grieving in the era of the coronavirus. It's Friday, April 24th. can we just talk a little bit can we go over um your plans but also just talk a little bit about flora and and about this time for you wayne? Yes. Yes, that's fine. But I, you know, I tend to, you know, the older you get, one story leads to another.

Yeah, but that's the beauty of being old and also of hearing stories, right? I know. I mean, very often I ask a question and it's a wrong question and you'll start answering it and you'll realize what a better question was. So tell me a bit about your love story, will you? Our love story? Oh, geez, I don't know. That's a complicated thing.

Flora and I knew each other for many, many years in church work and in committees and all of that. And we were involved in a ministry where we taught prayer and meditation and helped churches across the country with their prayer programming and all of that. They met way back in the early 70s. He was married and she, I believe, was either married or recently divorced, but soon to get divorced. I believe was either married or recently divorced, but soon to get divorced. And Wayne tells this story about going to a church music workshop with a youth group. And at lunch, holding his cafeteria tray, scanning the room, looking for a place to set it down and eat, there was a space next to this short, very small, brown-eyed woman. I went over, I'll sit with that person, went around and sat down, it was Flora. It was her, Flora May.

That was how we met, both of us introverts. She grew up not far from where I'm talking to you in the countryside outside of Toronto. She was a farm girl. In fact, one of her friends told me that, you know, before she went to high school every morning, she had to collect the eggs from more than 300 hens. Yeah. What was she like as a person? Well, she was an angel and a saint all wrapped into one, because she was the sweetest and

most tremendously deep. And so we had deep, deep conversations in theology and philosophy together. You know, very quickly, like within about two years, they started collaborating. She had really great musical skills, but also was a poet and wrote a lot. She started writing her own stuff way back. And she would just, that's something she would do when she was sitting somewhere, she'd often put some words together. And so they started collaborating, doing, you know, new hymns together and writing songs. He would put her lyrics to music.

And over time, both of them became single parents. And about 20 years ago, he says, when they were both single at that point, they had an awakening that they both sort of looked at each other and realized that they were in love and they had been in love. By that point, Flora was in her 70s. And when he did propose, he was substantially younger than her, 15 years. And he said she laughed hysterically because she couldn't envision being married to him when he was so much younger than her. So he said, well, I took the proposal back and said, well, maybe we'll do this at another time when it's not so uproariously funny to you. And he proposed again with a crossword puzzle. And she literally went to her children

and asked for permission, basically, to get married again and for advice. And she agreed. They got married and they had lived this wonderful second life together. Do you have a favorite memory of her? I guess my most favorite memory is the moment I saw her on our wedding day for the first time. She literally took my breath away. Literally. I gasped. You know, it was just, you know, it was that kind of thing. Anyway, that's my favorite memory. But yes, we did all of England and Scotland and Wales and Ireland. So we did all that, and then we went through the Panama Canal and did all of that.

They traveled up to Alaska. They walked up Mount Sinai. In the middle of the night so that we could be on top at sunrise. And so we've done things like that, you know, together. They went to Antarctica when she was in her 80s, late 80s. Wow. I mean, there's not very many people who have been to Antarctica. So when you say we've done things like that,

we went to the moon, you know, done those things. You know. Well, I don't know. And up until last summer, they were traveling in Europe together. And it wasn't until then, he says, that she sat up in bed one night in Rome and said, I can't breathe. She was living with, I think I told you, Catherine, idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, which was only the last six months that the symptoms began to appear.

And slowly, their world started to get smaller and smaller. There were times when she would say, I'm so scared, I'm so scared. And it was because she was oxygen starved. It was like, you know, someone who's drowning. And I was feeling great angst, wanting to somehow help her not be scared. And all I could do is get the oxygen on and things like that. By March, the world around her is worried about COVID. And she became very worried that she would get this and it would be an awful death, as did her husband. So, you know, her life that was already smaller became even smaller. They stopped taking so many visitors because they were worried about the spread and her getting it. And they would spend their days mostly together.

So on a Sunday in the end of March, they were having a quiet day. She had dinner with us, and when I say us, I have a dear friend who's a public health nurse who lives just around the corner, and we were live-streaming the worship from the Sunday up onto the flat screen here, and Flora would sit and watch that with Marianne while I looked after the techie stuff. And then she went, and Flora said, make sure to tell Marianne thanks for being here. And then Flora slept. And then about 6.30, I said, you know, I've made some soup.

You need to get up and have some soup. And so she pulled herself up on my arm and walked the three or four steps over to where she would sit down to eat. And as she was sitting down, she gave a couple of costs and was gone, just like that. And I was holding onto her. You know, I had no idea of how the end of her life would occur.

I didn't know what would occur. And so I'm holding her and I'm saying, she's gone. And then I'm lamenting. I just was saying, oh my love, my love, my love, my love. I just kept saying that as I held her. I was just holding her saying that. And that was what I was needing to say and do and feel. Wow.

That sounds beautiful, but also incredibly shocking. Well, it was. It was. But over 41 years years I was pastor so I mean I've been present on numerous occasions at the end of life for people it's such an intimate profession and so I mean it you know it wasn't shocking in some ways because I'd been there before with others. I knew this was the moment. I knew she was done. And she was. That's beautiful.

Yeah, it sounds like a pretty perfect death, doesn't it? In many ways to be held, particularly at a time now when so many people can't hold their loved ones. He recognizes how lucky that was that he was with her and holding her when she passed. But, you know, I've had my weepy days in between. Yesterday was a weepy day, but today not so much. And that's fine. I know how grief works. It's an emotion and we don't decide.

And one can break into tears at any moment from anything. But it takes, you know, your first year, it's up and down. Three months, six months are always dips. Twelve months. I know that. But it's funny, you know, knowing this, the other day I'm sobbing and meanwhile I'm analyzing it. I'm sobbing and saying, well, this is a good thing. It's a good thing you're sobbing. And meanwhile I'm sobbing, you know,, this is a good thing. It's a good thing you're sobbing. And meanwhile, I'm sobbing, you know. I just was amused at myself. I was saying, it's good.

Keep on sobbing, but just notice you are, you know. What happens in the days after Flora dies? How does Wayne, this man so well-versed in the kind of familiar traditional rituals of death, try to cope with it? He knew that he had to start planning for her funeral. He set about doing that immediately. And, you know, for him, when I asked him if he thought about delaying this funeral, he said, absolutely not, not for a second. So when you see the bottom of her obit, you know, it says an online celebration of life will take place on Saturday, April 11th at 1030 a.m. at this website with online visitation also available from 9.30.

In lieu of flowers, please send donations here. And what do his preparations for this online service look like? Well, in my mind, I have this image of him as being like a switchboard operator. Now, the service itself is a video. He starts calling people and asking them if they can contribute something or would they like to contribute something. The family and people out west and down east and all that sort of thing. He's talking to the organist at the church.

The organist who's playing is in his room. And going through what hymns she'd like to play. One minister is functioning in her home. He's reaching out to the woman who sang at their wedding. He's reaching out to the grandchildren and asking them to contribute even to small little pieces, like 15 seconds of little memory snippets, recording them on Skype or using their own cellminute. The service begins to take this shape. And we have stitched it all together into a service. So the remembrances are all stitched together as part of the service.

And he's trying to basically number them all, slot them all, and getting them all in order. So that on the day of the service, at the time of the service, that everyone sitting at home could press a button and watch the service at the same time. So you will be literally alone tomorrow during the service, but you will be joining your loved ones, you know, and then watching your loved ones on Zoom participate in the service at the same time. Yes. Yes. And we can mute each other in case we're out of tune. I see. Isn't that part of the funeral experience? Yes, of course. Isn't that part of the funeral experience?

Yes, of course. I cut you off. He did acknowledge that, you know, like this was not what they wanted, that, you know, they would have much rather been together. But this is where we are at. He said, you know, I've done so many of these and they just take a life of their own. And you do what you do the best you can do. And it will be what it will be okay all right we'll see you tomorrow all right thank you bye-bye no have a good night bye we'll be right back so Catherine the next morning what happens Wayne says he gets up he has his breakfast he

listens to some music and then he gets dressed as if he was in person at the funeral. He wore a special tie he'd bought in Damascus. It's his Easter tie. He said he put on his shoes that were tight and uncomfortable but would remind him of the formality of the moment and the importance of the moment. And then, you know, about an hour before the service was to start, he started to work on the Zoom visitation. Hi, Bruce.

Hello, Bruce, can you hear me? Hi, Warren. Can you hear me, Warren? I cannot hear you, Warren. Turn on your mic. Let's see. Maybe I can turn it on. You can hear me, eh? Yes, sir. Okay. Thanks for joining us, Bruce. We're just getting going here it wasn't smooth at first although there was something marvelous

about the technical difficulties that were happening bruce can you hear us bruce i can hear you yes yes hello hello we can hear you too i'm here can you hear me now okay yes we can yes like these things are always awkward people coming in and paying their respects. It's always a bit awkward. People don't know what to say. We can talk to each other, you know. You can turn your mics on. We can talk to each other.

And each person's kind of waiting to step in and say something. And in some ways, all of these technical difficulties, like, sort of substituted for that awkwardness. Can you hear us, Joe? I can hear you. Can you hear me? Yes, we can hear you and we can see you. Okay, good. How's life in Montreal? Well, it's pretty good. And how are you down there?

I'm not used to this yet. We're all a little bit nervous with this, I guess. Well, yes, we're getting more used to it. Oh, see, there's a couple of people waiting to come in here. I'm not sure you got audio. There was an old friend of Flora's came on and it was clear that she had never done this before. Can you hear me now?

Yes, we can hear you, Bev. Can you hear us? I can hear you now. I got my keyboard here. Okay, good. Oh, well, I'm really sorry. We're really going to miss Flora. I know you are, too. But Wayne became the minister of the moment. Linda. It's Linda and Ron over in Grand Bend.

Bev Williams up in Waterloo. There are people, you know, arriving from New Jersey. That's not the weather in New Jersey. It is sunny for the first time. And Vancouver. Oh, there's Bojana in Spain. Yes, yes. I don't know if you can hear me.

Yes, we can. Can you hear me? Bojana, yes, we can. Okay. I am really sorry for all this, you know, loss in this hard time for everybody. He started introducing one another. He made a lot of soup for Flora. Calling on each person, welcoming them into the room. That's the rest of Flora's family there,

I imagine. Well, there's Warren up in the, I don't know, in the gallery view. Can you see the gallery view, Joe? Yes, I do. And allowing them that moment to step forward and introduce themselves to the other members of the family that all gathered. And there's Sandra. And say hello and say it's so great to see you. Doris, we can see you, Doris. Can you hear us? Good morning, yes. Good morning, Doris. Doris was part of the so-called Golden Girls. How many of you were

there? There were seven of you? Six. Six of you? Six. It slowly took on a life of its own. Yes, there are 40 of us in here now, and here's some more coming in. Hi, Wayne. Hi, Carlos.

We just wanted to send our condolences and love to you, Sandra, Warren, and the rest of the family. Sorry, the dogs are barking in the background. They're the ones that have the two dachshunds named Oscar and Mike. Remembering Flora and bringing memories, you know, on her farm. She used to go skating as a child, a little pond. Because the sixth of us used to have pajama parties at each other's homes we just laughed and giggled and had a wonderful fun time all those years so you got on there claire mary yes we did thank you yes we did the funny little poem that she gave someone i love you much i love you mighty i wish my pajamas were next to your nightie.

Now don't be mistaken. Now don't be mistaken. Now don't be misled. I mean on the clothesline and not in the bed. I don't have memories back as far as Doris or Helen. My memories, I think I first met Wayne, you and Flora in 95 possibly in Sudbury. Yes. And you were really, really important to me at that point. I'm going to cry. I was a broken human being when we met. You remember, I went through some difficult time, my divorce,

and Flora and you always greeted me with open arms. And I never forget this. This will stay with me forever. Yes, Bernie and Alistair in Burlington. Yes, we hear you, Wayne. We send our condolences to you, Wayne. Well, Flora always had a special place in her heart for both of you. We did too. I know. A longtime friend. We have many, many memories, good memories of Flora. Yes. And this is very sad. Thank you. Thank you. Yeah. This is an amazing way to celebrate a life, Wayne. Thank you so much for doing this.

Thank you. It's what I'm, oh, there's some more people coming in, but I'm, I'm going to mute everybody now. And I'm going to get the, the video ready to get started. So I'm just going to share the screen and get that. Can you hear me all? Just having a glitch, of course, just on the website part. I'll just get the service going here. So then the service begins. And, you know, I'm sitting at home in my office watching the service. And it was everything Wayne had described. There were very, very traditional elements of it. Friends, welcome to St. Paul's United Church. We are gathered electronically to worship God and to celebrate the life of Flora Mae Litt.

Two ministers speaking, one from home in an armchair and one in the church, which is a beautiful church, you can see. But he was incredibly close. Like, instead of seeing a minister up at the pulpit from the distance, you could see his face, like, as if you could reach out and touch his crooked mustache. I kept looking at how his mustache was crooked. He was so incredibly close. And in our hope of your eternal care,

through Christ our Lord, amen. And then... the organ is playing with his husband and the hymn rolling down the screen. Oh, Christ in thee, my soul hath found, hath found in thee. And there was a little girl dancing and the slideshow with music. And it really, to me, felt so much like a mix between a funeral and a wake. There were so many hands. Mom, for as long as I can remember, you were always by my side. My grandma was always writing and putting words together beautifully.

What can you say about Flora? She was many things to many people. I love you and I miss you, Grandma. And we will miss her terribly. We love you, Flora. You were a beautiful child of God. Good morning. I'm Flora's son, Warren.

Well, I think I'm ready for this. I had a big bowl of oatmeal this morning and I can hear my mom's voice in my head saying, it'll stick to your ribs and get you ready for whatever the day will bring. My mom wrote in her spiritual autobiography in 1996. And then at the same time, people were still in the Zoom room. And so you could not only watch the service, if you had been in the Zoom room, you could watch other people and get this element of other people's reactions. You could see them singing. You could see them crying, which I think, you know, for many people, you need almost a permission to cry. So seeing other people crying is very soothing. You could watch other people watching this funeral. Yeah. And there was Wayne, and he was in his beautiful tie, in his beautiful suit. And he was

singing when the hymns were there. I am a child of God. I am a child of God's new creation. I am a child of God's new creation. And he was super absorbed in listening to the minister. And he was snacking at one point. And during the playing of Hallelujah, he was in tears. He was showing the full range of emotions and seemed incredibly gripped and present with the service. Right, this very thing that he had created.

Yeah, yeah. Like he said, you know, you can set the train rolling, but then it will do what it will do. And there was, you know, all of the parts he had brought together, but the magic also of the moment, of all these contributions of people, you know, what they said and their memories of his wife. All these elements of community, he was feeling, as he says, nourished by them and held by them. Flora, go gently into God's deeper presence. Go confidently into that communion of saints surrounding us all.

And may they hold you precious until we meet again. Amen. all unmute yourselves when you want to speak. Beautiful service. Well done. And hope to see you soon and give you a big hug. Yeah, we can all use them. Here's a virtual one to begin with. Thank you. Wayne, I'm just curious. I'm just curious. Yes, who's speaking? This is Helen. Oh, yes. I've got this thing on backwards. I'm really a modern Luddite here. I'm just curious, where exactly are you sitting right now? Where am I sitting? Yeah. In my office at home. Right. Okay. Okay. You can see my some of my books and some of my stamp collection there behind me. Yeah well the flowers are coming out. It's nice to know that the universe at least knows that it's it's what it's doing even if some

of the people below don't always know what they're doing. So we got the full moon. We got the vernal equinox. And so it marches on. And the sun came up this morning. The sun came up or the earth revolved. And so what happened? Thank you, Helen. Well, thank you, Wayne, for doing this.

I'll say bye for now. Okay. Bye- now. Okay. Bye-bye. Bye. Well, I guess we'll, it's just us chickens left. well I guess we'll it's just us chickens left so we can probably

pack it in now you know anyway I think we'll close her down now and we'll talk again all the best to all of you. I love you guys. All right.

Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Bye. Bye-bye. Love you. I wonder if, in the end, it felt like you had been to a funeral in the way we have always thought of funerals. Yeah, I think for me, it did. think for me it did. Well, I thought it would be less of a funeral than going to a funeral home with other people. And I was going to miss that. But it turned out to be totally different.

I was sitting in my solitary silence in the dining room. And as I began to hear the story of Flora's life from people, rather just sitting back listening to a memorial service that's formal, this was very moving and touching. And it revealed Flora in a way that a normal service would not have done. You know, speaking to people afterwards, many told me that this felt deeper and truer and more loving than so many of the funerals that they had been to, and more revealing of Flora. One person talked about how he wished he could do his mother's funeral again. Well, it's interesting. I'm an only son, and so when my mom passed, it was like I knew she was going to pass.

She'd been sick for a while. And do elements from this, because so much of what we do when someone dies is set out in what we think we need to do and how the elements need to be like this, and it becomes quite rote. But it was like, okay, did I need all the pomp and circumstance, for lack of a better word, that goes on with the actual service?

And when I thought about it a lot last night, I said, you know, my mom would have loved the way that Wayne did Florida. In some ways, you know, a lot of our rituals, we'd never question. We just sort of sink into them. And they become like, you know, old, worn-down armchairs. They're really comfortable. But in some ways, I think the discomfort of the situation and the forcing of coming up with new rituals that are meaningful

means that it feels more authentic and more real. It was, to my surprise, it was very touching. And I felt the spirit, the unity. It was something which was almost like a magic. Like it transponded you to the different dimension. Like it transponded you to the different dimension. Also, I just think we're at this incredible time of mourning as a world. We're all grieving our lives and grieving the lives that we've had before and worried about what's going to happen in the future.

And we're all sort of stuck in a state of suspension. And, you know, some of the grief therapists that I talk to, the counselors, they say, like, you know, when you lose someone you love deeply, you want the world to stop. And the world has stopped. We're all kind of like in this collective place of reflection. I certainly know from my work as a minister and a chaplain that often society gives you the three days to grieve and then move on. But we were challenged to spend a couple of weeks thinking about how best to remember my mom. And I think that was actually a healthy element, too, that we had to pause. Flora's son said that because he couldn't be busy and running around doing the things he would normally do to distract himself, he's just been settling in his grief and thinking about his mom in a way

that perhaps he would not have been. But in this situation, that's been an upside. There's been more time, I think, to remember and to grieve, and not to kind of rush through it, because you have all this other stuff to do, because there isn't, it's just a different kind of situation right now. I want to invite people to see that as an opportunity, an opportunity to grieve, because I think too often we just rush through those things because they're more painful and not that comfortable.

I'm curious how Wayne is faring since the funeral. Have you checked in with him? Yeah, I've checked in with him a few times now. I talked to him the day after. He was very, you know, that night he watched Jesus Christ Superstar, which he said Flora did not love, but he loves it. He's also just been reading her poetry and going through the books of her writing and delighting in that. In this time of suspension, he's using some of the time to really sink in and reflect and say goodbye. I found a book of her poetry.

I think I maybe mentioned that the other day. And so I've been reading one of them each day. And I read one today and it's about the Highlands in Scotland. And so I'd love to read it to you. Can I read it to you? Oh, I'd love that. Yeah. Let me just go and grab the book. I just, I never read them really before. And she just put them in a little book and it was sitting in her desk. And let's see, here it is. It's called Scottish Highlands. Highland of wild beauty, a panorama,

Highland of wild beauty A panorama Heaped and hilled with knuckles and wrinkles Of variegated green Bare stone scratched and scraped A tartan face of road and fence And winding stream Reaching through dark dots of spruce and pine Into patched arms of bracken and heather,

where true-footed sheep and deer dare cling. In wooded places of the glen's heart, bird and feathered creatures find a refuge near the glistening loch, up like a liquid silver pool within the palm where trout can flash and play while here and there a weary castle still looks down upon a pastoral scene of black and white-faced sheep without shepherd but quiet and content beside a spreading river where grazed the long-horned, shaggy cattle beasts. Color surprises brighten the grassy bed with foxglove and buttercup, daisy, dogrose and iris, a feast for the eyes and heart no longer confined, but roaming wild and free in the high land.

So that, I thought, that's rich. I love that. That is beautiful. We'll be right back. Since this episode aired, Katherine Porter got back on the phone with Wayne to hear how he's coping without Flora. How have you been? I've been fine. I've had days where I felt quite sad.

I've had the odd day where I felt lonely. I started sort of sorting things. The first thing I did was to rearrange the condo here and to move her. We had a large master bedroom and she had one end of it for her office. And then I found a box in the storage and I opened it up and here was all this poetry there from earlier years, going way back to 1960. Wow! And so I got that out and I said, we've got a

treasure here because they were so rich and I thought, oh, these need to be shared. And it was my friend Alan who essentially called me and said, what would you think about putting that collection together? And I said, maybe we could collaborate on that because I know how to get this published. And so we went at it and we managed to get that book together and now I've been able to share it and continue to. There's such a sense of satisfaction in that for me,

to share this with the people who were her friends and who knew her. I've had some wonderful responses from people. This has been healing for you. I can feel why. Also, you feel like you're sort of stitching her legacy and continuing her ministry through the publication of this book. What do you think she would make of it? She'd be embarrassed. And I'm saying, it's okay, dear. This is what you believe. This is what you wanted. And you were not in a position to get it out there and i am so here

it goes because people need to hear this but i i occasionally tell her i still love you you know i used to say that to her i used to say i love i love you this morning i love you this afternoon i love you this evening i used to do that every day and it was kind of a half a joke because you know we'll see about tomorrow you know this episode was produced by Lindsay Garrison and Annie Brown with help from Luke Vander Ploeg and Sydney Harper.

It was edited by Lisa Tobin and engineered by Chris Wood and Marion Lozano. That's it for The Daily. I'm Michael Barbaro. See you tomorrow.