I have always been a fan of cemeteries. I can spend hours wandering around graves, reading headstones, finding whole sections filled with Civil War veterans and victims of flu epidemics. I like the act of remembering, bringing the long dead back to life, if only for a few minutes.
Tomorrow, after work, a couple of my best friends and I are walking to the cemetery where my sister is interred. It will be a celebration of sorts, honoring our friendships and my sister's life. We are going to bring hot chocolate. Maybe take some pictures.
Saint Marty is really looking forward to it.
In A Churchyard
by: Richard Wilbur
That flower unseen, that gem of purest ray,
Bright thoughts uncut by men:
Strange that you need but speak them, Thomas Gray,
And the mind skips and dives beyond its ken,
Finding at once the wild supposed bloom,
Or in the imagined cave
Some pulse of crystal staving off the gloom
As covertly as phosphorus in a grave.
Void notions proper to a buried head!
Beneath these tombstones here
Unseenness fills the sockets of the dead,
Whatever to their souls may now appear;
And who but those unfathomably deaf
Who quiet all this ground
Could catch, within the ear's diminished clef,
A music innocent of time and sound?
What do the living hear, then, when the bell
Hangs plumb within the tower
Of the still church, and still their thoughts compel
Pure tollings that intend no mortal hour?
As when a ferry for the shore of death
Glides looming toward the dock,
Her engines cut, her spirits bating breath
As the ranked pilings narrow toward the shock,
So memory and expectation set
Some pulseless clangor free
Of circumstance, and charm us to forget
This twilight crumbling in the churchyard tree,
Those swifts or swallows which do not pertain,
Scuffed voices in the drive,
That light flicked on behind the vestry pane,
Till, unperplexed from all that is alive,
It shadows all our thought, balked imminence
Of uncommitted sound,
And still would tower at the sill of sense
Were not, as now, its honeyed abeyance crowned
With a mauled boom of summons far more strange
Than any stroke unheard,
Which breaks again with unimagined range
Through all reverberations of the word,
Pooling the mystery of things that are,
The buzz of prayer said,
The scent of grass, the earliest-blooming star,
These unseen gravestones, and the darker dead.
Poet...Musician...Thinker...Blogger...Teacher...Husband...Father...I'm not perfect, but I try!
Showing posts with label My Sister's Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Sister's Life. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Thursday, January 23, 2014
January 23: My Sister's Life, Wilbur's Life, Charlotte's Trick
This morning, I found out that my sister in Utah is very ill. She went to the hospital yesterday because she was experiencing back and chest pain. The doctors admitted her and discovered she has sepsis. It seems my sister had a root canal in 2007, and she's had an infection ever since. My sister just chose to ignore it. Now, she has a life-threatening condition.
I haven't been close to my sister in Utah for a long time. It's complicated. When she told us that she was moving out west with her family, I was almost relieved. I'm a little ashamed to admit that. But my life has been a lot less difficult since her departure. Since I found out about her illness, I've been struggling with an incredible sense of guilt.
The doctors did an echocardiogram to find out if the infection has damaged her heart valves. And she has to talk to a facial surgeon because her jawbone is infected, as well. It's serious. She is in need of a Charlotte-sized miracle.
At one point in Charlotte's Web, Charlotte calls a meeting of all the animals in the barn. She needs their help to think of a new word to weave into her web:
"...Zuckerman thinks Wilbur is an unusual pig, and therefore he won't want to kill him and eat him. I dare say my trick will work and Wilbur's life can be saved."
Charlotte knows she can't save Wilbur by herself. She needs the help of the geese and the sheep and the cows. She even needs the help of Templeton, the rat.
My sister needs a lot of help right now. From doctors and nurses and surgeons and specialists. And she needs good thoughts and prayers. I know, in the last ten years or so, I haven't had a lot of good thoughts for my sister. As I said before, it's complicated. So I'm asking all the readers of this blog for lots of positive energy. If you are a praying person, please say a quick prayer for her, because I'm not so sure how effective my prayers are going to be. Complicated.
That's a piece of Saint Marty's mind tonight. Please, God, watch over Saint Marty's sister.
I haven't been close to my sister in Utah for a long time. It's complicated. When she told us that she was moving out west with her family, I was almost relieved. I'm a little ashamed to admit that. But my life has been a lot less difficult since her departure. Since I found out about her illness, I've been struggling with an incredible sense of guilt.
The doctors did an echocardiogram to find out if the infection has damaged her heart valves. And she has to talk to a facial surgeon because her jawbone is infected, as well. It's serious. She is in need of a Charlotte-sized miracle.
At one point in Charlotte's Web, Charlotte calls a meeting of all the animals in the barn. She needs their help to think of a new word to weave into her web:
"...Zuckerman thinks Wilbur is an unusual pig, and therefore he won't want to kill him and eat him. I dare say my trick will work and Wilbur's life can be saved."
Charlotte knows she can't save Wilbur by herself. She needs the help of the geese and the sheep and the cows. She even needs the help of Templeton, the rat.
My sister needs a lot of help right now. From doctors and nurses and surgeons and specialists. And she needs good thoughts and prayers. I know, in the last ten years or so, I haven't had a lot of good thoughts for my sister. As I said before, it's complicated. So I'm asking all the readers of this blog for lots of positive energy. If you are a praying person, please say a quick prayer for her, because I'm not so sure how effective my prayers are going to be. Complicated.
That's a piece of Saint Marty's mind tonight. Please, God, watch over Saint Marty's sister.
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