Thursday, November 15, 2012

Running in Memory


See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
 

I've often wondered what happens to someone's energy when they pass on. For years after Roger died in the South Canyon fire, he came strolling through my dreams. He hasn't shown up in a long time, though. It's been almost twenty years, and whatever stardust he is now must revolve out there somewhere on a cold winter night. The other evening at seven thousand feet the stars hung just right, burning holes in the sky. Do pieces of our souls turn into the eyes of stars?
 
B. has been gone now for a month, and it is hard to shake. I think it's that I still feel like we could have reached him. Others say no, but if I give up on thinking that one person can make a difference, a little spark goes out, a little fire slowly dies.
 
The breath from your own lips, the touch of fingertips
A sweet and tender kiss
The sound of a midnight train, wearing someone's ring
Someone calling your name
Somebody so warm cradled in your arms
Didn't you think you were worth anything
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
 
I'm doing the only thing I know how to do. I'm organizing a run in B's memory on the 30th of November. He loved to run, and this is the best way I know how to honor him. Probably nobody reading this knew him-I'm not sure any of us really did-but if you run on that day, please take a moment to think of others out there whose pain is so intense that they can't see the beauty of the world anymore. We can't help B. anymore, but maybe we can help someone else stick around. We may all become the breath of stars someday, but it does not have to be on this day.

Didn't you think anyone loved you
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world

5 comments:

  1. Wow....that is beautiful. Everyone in my office wondering why i am in tears!
    Sorry for your loss and for you pain. I hope you heal somehow.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I knew B.
    Not well, but enough to be shocked and saddened by his passing at his own hand. I had no idea there was such despair inside.
    I will miss him.
    It's interesting how something like this touches us, even when we weren't really close to the person. I probably wouldn't have thought about him at all until I saw him next summer, but now I won't see him and he floats into my thoughts now several times each week.
    He always seemed so funny and upbeat, so I was really shocked to see his obituary in the online paper (yes, I found out via the newspaper since I am out of the county for awhile) and I had to email co-workers to find out what happened.
    Good for you Mary for doing the memorial run. I wish I could be there for it.
    This is a lovely tribute.
    Peace and Hugs,
    Mariah

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ohh, M. This is lovely and should make us all stop and think of that one or two that we might reach. We have known some who came through and some who didn't...in our neighborhood, a 17 year old girl last week. We will walk with you on November 30th.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mary, this is such a tender, touching essay from your heart. A run in his memory seems like a good thing to do...at a time when there are no answers, only questions. What you have written may help someone reach out, as northco says, or may even keep someone from taking a final step. AntAn

    ReplyDelete

Hello out there. If you liked this post, please leave a comment so I keep writing!