Sunday, December 07, 2014

Keys

[So many e-mails are coming in. Here is my response to one I just received from M, who I hope won't mind my reposting here, as it applies to all of you who have sent messages of care.]

I just walked back from the funeral home that will be handling Randy's cremation. My friends P & J, who live in the other side of the house, came along for support.

I've been trying to remember, but haven't actually searched yet, the Louise Gluck poem about thinking one is as close to death as possible--and then going closer. I think I would like to read it at the small solstice gathering we're planning.

It's all moving through me in waves. It's been 20 years since my first partner, David, died of aids. Randy's death was accidental, a horrible stupid error on his part, and so its suddenness compounded by my futile insistence that it did not have to happen on that day seem to be the keys that gouge me the most right now. The loss itself permeates everything, but feels oddly warm, laced through and through by the love I feel: his love for me which does not end, and mine for him, and the kindness and good regard of so many who are well-wishing right now. Thank you.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Its Mary Oliver's "Heavy."

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry
but how you carry it -
books, bricks, grief -
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled -
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?


You are in my thoughts and in my heart, Ron. As is Randy. I'm carrying. Others are, too. With love.