When words fail us


I love words. But this week, I’ve been profoundly reminded how inadequate Webster’s attempt is in defining some words. Loss, sorrow, family – these words are visceral. You “feel” them in your gut. This week my gut has been aching from digesting the weight of these words.

Frank Buchwalder, the father of two recent Indian players, kept score for our team, decorated the team’s Cooperstown-bound cars (to the envy of all other teams); sketched hilarious cartoons of game absurdities (one the team adopted for a t-shirt design); designed Indians’ Cooperstown trading pins. Dedicated, creative, witty – these words barely scratch the surface in describing Frank’s character and talent.

Frank was family – Indian baseball, Mountville Youth Association (MYAA), and Mountville community family. Now he is suddenly gone. And words fail us. “Loss,” “sorrow,” these seem like random combinations of letters on a page, trying in vein to express the lived experience.

There are no words we can say to his loving wife Michelle and his two young sons, Nick and Ryan, that will take away their pain, tell them how sorry we are for their loss, express our own sorrow.

So, we will “do.” We will hug. We will cry with them, and for them. We will stand by them and support them the very best we can. Because that’s what families do.

Rest in Peace Frank.