Everything melts
burns out:
lamp lampshade
the light itself
with no shade left
no world
belongs to you and you
belong
to no world
you are pulled
by rain and light
on roads coming
and going
from everywhere
to everywhere
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.
Leaves & Pages 
Very sorry for your loss – it must be hard to bear when she went in such unhappy circumstances. But whatever your beliefs, she is out of pain now, which must be some comfort.
Thank you, Harriet, for your much-appreciated condolences. It has been a sad time, indeed, but, as you say, her pain has now ended.
Deepest sympathy to you all; such a very sad and difficult time.
Thank you, Helen. Your kind wishes are greatly appreciated.
So sorry to hear of your loss – I hope you’re finding comfort from your reading and the knowledge that her suffering is over.
Thank you, Karen. Yes, her suffering is over, and there is that to be grateful for.
We do step out blindly (very well-put) and the world is so extraordinary, sometimes in its very ordinariness. I understand the anger at having to die before one is ready. And I’m sorry for all of you.
This is the hardest thing, that she had so many challenges all her life, and that, despite everything, she loved being alive and wasn’t able to come to peace with it all ending. We always look for meaning to what we are asked to deal with in our lives, and for some sort of “fairness” – don’t we? – and so often there isn’t any. Our collective sorrow is so much for her, and much less so for ourselves, though her passing leaves a tremendous hole in the fabric of her family.
This is a very special case of poetry as a savetynet, my dear Barb, and I am very honored that I could contribute to your consolation in this way. (Please excuse my English, hope that you understand what I mean).
What a sad story, the way you sister in law has died. Yes, it is hard to die when you are still young, and longing to go on living. There is a lot of winning in getting old before you die, sure.
I wish you and your family all the best.
Marijke
Thank you Marijke, for your kind wishes.
I’m so sorry, Barb. Take care and my sympathies to you and your family.
Thank you, Claire.
Our thoughts are with you; going on when you know she didn’t want to leave you all is a hard, hard thing to adjust to. Sending our sympathies to you all.
Thank you so much. Your kind words are greatly appreciated.
Oh, no, Barb, I am so terribly sorry. You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers this week.
Thank you, Jenny.