the light itself
with no shade left
belongs to you and you
to no world
you are pulled
by rain and light
on roads coming
Jaan Kaplinski, circa 1985
Such a melancholy week we are having.
Several days ago one of my husband’s sisters died at much too young an age. Though her passing was expected – she had terminal cancer and had been in palliative care for the last two months – we are all deeply sad for her, for this person was not ready or willing to leave her life, despite her terrible suffering, and that is perhaps the most dreadful thing of all.
“She died so angry,” one of her sisters said to me just a little while ago when she called to talk, and to cry.
We just never know what we will be asked to face, do we?
We step out blindly, day by day, trusting that there will be ground under our feet, or at least a not-too-hard place to fall. Sometimes the ground disappears, and then all that we have is courage as we try to make sense of where we are, and, if we are fortunate, hope, and at some point, ideally, the grace of acceptance.
Thank you to my friend Marijke for the poem, which I shared here. It seemed to fit the mood tonight, as we are quietly grieving, paying tribute in memory to a life which had its deep and fervent joys, as well as its final overwhelming darkness.
Onward, then, one step at a time.