For Jean, in her mourning:
A eulogy for Carol Ann, and in remembrance of all the people no longer in my life.
I loved my friend. It wasn't yesterday, but very shortly after where memories don't reach like they once did we met. Young, naive, and invincible we set out to conquer the world together: two doves flying free circles in the wind. Inseparable. Soaring. One. Showed ?em who was boss- we. Set out to conquer the world then, but didn?t know much.
One time when late-night adventures brought our shenanigans to a standstill we followed through. Do you remember that Carol? It was dark out, but the moonlight is still reflected in your eyes as I see them now in front of me, a smiling face. Good-natured, a gift from God sent to comfort and love. We painted with chalk then on the cold cement- pastel colors to match our moods. Now it is dark and lonely, you have left me here alone and who will wash my weary heart? I loved you.
Do you remember that? We were still kids, one old then but now young, one always young- a child. I yelled at you, you fool. Heh. Two guys who wanted portraits, what were you thinking? Why did you have to leave me? And so we went together, pouting, trusting, cautious, ready, to Tulsa International. I was right ! Portraits? portraits?portraits.
How we ran then. As we came. So quickly. Happy to be alive. Down the stairs. Into the car. Sped off to tell the story later.
Do you remember how we used to laugh together. What great fun that was. Talking about nothing in particular like lazy flies on the wall yapping away at the world. Lying down watching the clouds pass. There?s an elephant. You always said they were swans- so beautiful you could sit on top and hold the graceful curving neck and fly away. We did fly. Doves grow up into swans. How I loved you.
We grew older with time, meeting men who loved, meeting others who didn?t. In sickness and in health. For better and for worse. You were my friend. Many birthdays we shared, adding a candle every year to an already topped cake it tastes so good. When you were ill, I wrote, I sang, I prayed. Your joys were my joys, your pains my pains. Going to sleep felt so close I could extend my hand and it was not my hand but yours. Heart beating, it was not my heart. And now you are gone.
I loved my friend. Carol was not known to many. Maybe appreciated by few. But what does it matter, you were my friend. To share in my life. To let me see yours. To know you were there. I was there for you. A cup of kindness. A spinkle of smileys. Ground spice mix of grace and goodness. This is who Carol was. My friend.
She is gone now, to be remembered for what she did and did not do. The heavens look down and say ?there lived a great woman?. I look and see my friend who no longer shares with me. I loved her. I weep now out of sadness for her. For me. For you who knew the immaculate heart. Who sensed the life I did. Who saw what I saw.
Hearts grow cold with time. But Carol is still warm in my memory. As warm as that night we painted pastels. My friend has died and I cry but she still lives. I love my friend. Love drowns death. I cry for her and try to fill what void is there but cannot. Let these tears flow. I love
With my love to Mom,
and with much Cheers !
Pav
A eulogy for Carol Ann, and in remembrance of all the people no longer in my life.
I loved my friend. It wasn't yesterday, but very shortly after where memories don't reach like they once did we met. Young, naive, and invincible we set out to conquer the world together: two doves flying free circles in the wind. Inseparable. Soaring. One. Showed ?em who was boss- we. Set out to conquer the world then, but didn?t know much.
One time when late-night adventures brought our shenanigans to a standstill we followed through. Do you remember that Carol? It was dark out, but the moonlight is still reflected in your eyes as I see them now in front of me, a smiling face. Good-natured, a gift from God sent to comfort and love. We painted with chalk then on the cold cement- pastel colors to match our moods. Now it is dark and lonely, you have left me here alone and who will wash my weary heart? I loved you.
Do you remember that? We were still kids, one old then but now young, one always young- a child. I yelled at you, you fool. Heh. Two guys who wanted portraits, what were you thinking? Why did you have to leave me? And so we went together, pouting, trusting, cautious, ready, to Tulsa International. I was right ! Portraits? portraits?portraits.
How we ran then. As we came. So quickly. Happy to be alive. Down the stairs. Into the car. Sped off to tell the story later.
Do you remember how we used to laugh together. What great fun that was. Talking about nothing in particular like lazy flies on the wall yapping away at the world. Lying down watching the clouds pass. There?s an elephant. You always said they were swans- so beautiful you could sit on top and hold the graceful curving neck and fly away. We did fly. Doves grow up into swans. How I loved you.
We grew older with time, meeting men who loved, meeting others who didn?t. In sickness and in health. For better and for worse. You were my friend. Many birthdays we shared, adding a candle every year to an already topped cake it tastes so good. When you were ill, I wrote, I sang, I prayed. Your joys were my joys, your pains my pains. Going to sleep felt so close I could extend my hand and it was not my hand but yours. Heart beating, it was not my heart. And now you are gone.
I loved my friend. Carol was not known to many. Maybe appreciated by few. But what does it matter, you were my friend. To share in my life. To let me see yours. To know you were there. I was there for you. A cup of kindness. A spinkle of smileys. Ground spice mix of grace and goodness. This is who Carol was. My friend.
She is gone now, to be remembered for what she did and did not do. The heavens look down and say ?there lived a great woman?. I look and see my friend who no longer shares with me. I loved her. I weep now out of sadness for her. For me. For you who knew the immaculate heart. Who sensed the life I did. Who saw what I saw.
Hearts grow cold with time. But Carol is still warm in my memory. As warm as that night we painted pastels. My friend has died and I cry but she still lives. I love my friend. Love drowns death. I cry for her and try to fill what void is there but cannot. Let these tears flow. I love
With my love to Mom,
and with much Cheers !
Pav
WW, your illustrated poem is a heart-breaker and a heart-healer all in one. Beautiful.
linuxboy, you are a wonder. Can I trade in one of my sons and get you instead?
linuxboy, you are a wonder. Can I trade in one of my sons and get you instead?
I do not know who wrote this, but I hope this poem can give some comfort for your grief.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn?s rain.
When you awaken in the morning?s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn?s rain.
When you awaken in the morning?s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
<< The death of a loved one leaves a hole, a void where something belongs. We can try to fill in the hole by weeping into it, but our tears will never be enough. I poured this poem in, and it was better than tears, and now I can let go. >>
So let go, and shut the fvck up. Does 'WW' stand for WhattaWhore? :|
Like most of his/her/its posts, this is some of the sorryest attention whoring I have ever seen.
---
BoneLameness,
One post by you, and you have seen "most of her posts?" Go away, and you won't see any more of them.
Good bye.
AnandtTech Moderator
ohtwell
Lifer
- Jan 6, 2002
- 14,516
- 9
- 81
<<
<< The death of a loved one leaves a hole, a void where something belongs. We can try to fill in the hole by weeping into it, but our tears will never be enough. I poured this poem in, and it was better than tears, and now I can let go. >>
So let go, and shut the fvck up. Does 'WW' stand for WhattaWhore? :|
Like most of his/her/its posts, this is some of the sorryest attention whoring I have ever seen. >>
:Q:disgust::|
I think you are the only one looking for attention.
People who set up a new account because they don't have the gutts to say what they think if people know it's them are just pathetic.
: ) Amanda
<< So let go, and shut the fvck up. Does 'WW' stand for WhattaWhore? :|
Like most of his/her/its posts, this is some of the sorryest attention whoring I have ever seen. >>
:Q
i smell a ban
Pliablemoose
Lifer
- Oct 11, 1999
- 25,195
- 0
- 56
Sorry to hear of your loss WW.
My family has been working through the loss of my stepdaughter's dad (& wife's ex) for a little over a month. Unfortunately there's no-one responsible enough to deal with the estate, so my wife was just made administrator of the estate. It's been a very stressful month, and the permanence of his death is what keeps reminding us of the temporary nature of our own lives. I honestly don't miss him, anyone that smokes pot in front of their 7 year old daughter has earned a special place in hell in my book, but I greive for him because my stepdaughter feels such a sense of loss, and the fact that he was a fellow human being.
My family has been working through the loss of my stepdaughter's dad (& wife's ex) for a little over a month. Unfortunately there's no-one responsible enough to deal with the estate, so my wife was just made administrator of the estate. It's been a very stressful month, and the permanence of his death is what keeps reminding us of the temporary nature of our own lives. I honestly don't miss him, anyone that smokes pot in front of their 7 year old daughter has earned a special place in hell in my book, but I greive for him because my stepdaughter feels such a sense of loss, and the fact that he was a fellow human being.
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