Today, it’s been 17 years since my brother died. I honor his life and his journey and I am filled with gratitude for him allowing me to companion him through his journey with dying.
I wrote this less than two weeks after he died and thought I would share it today.
May we be blessed by those who have touched our lives and who have died.
May we be blessed with people who love us, right here and now.
May we know that we have made a difference in every life we have touched.
Whatever happend to the
sitting and watching the campfire?
With a shy, sly grin,
You must have been a real charmer!
The boy whom I used to admire so.
How I lament his disappearance from our lives.
I see him in front of the fire,
Amazed and awed by the gods
That warm him.
A boy well-learned in the arts
And knew all the finer things.
This youth, thinking so hard,
So far inside of himself.
What could be that grave to
Captivate this imp’s consciousness?
The precious blonde boy
With eyes wide and blue,
Could not stay forever in front of that blaze.
He would have had less of
A chance of being burnt by the flames,
Then by his life.
He met the world,
Turning his back and taking the hardest path.
Along the journey,
This toddler grew into an “angry young man”.
His eyes turned toward money and power
And reflected the cold that he
Tried to warm in his heart.
Whatever happened to that bright
Young man whose future
Was just beginning?
Any journey could have been taken. . . .
Why this one?
Whatever happened to the beautiful man
Whom I admired so much?
Brilliant, classic, and pristine
Like a piece of Waterford crystal,
Or a Grecian urn.
Why did I not understand the anger and the pain in your eyes?
Here I am,
Left with broken pieces,
Lamenting your death,
Unsure above your life.
I can barely remember now
That man whom you
Were for just a moment.
I know this journey
Led us on paths we wish
We had never time to explore,
But I think that I found
That fair-haired boy,
With the shy, sly grin
You tried so hard to bury.
I held you close
And wept by your side.
I saw the pain in your eyes,
As you rain into every mountain
And hung onto each cliff.
I close my eyes
And see you let go . . .
Drifting. . .
Taking flight. . .
Soaring high above
With the other lavender balloons.
I look toward the heavens
And find you there.
Glowing brilliantly and pristinely against the darkness
Of the night sky.
I know that fair-haired boy
Has returned to his place before the campfire,
Returned to his home.
It’s a comforting sort of feeling
That washes over me
After the tears fall away.
With every breeze and every note
Of the chime, I hear your voice and
The sound of an “I love you”.
If I close my eyes tight enough,
That luminous star helps me
To know the beginning
And remember the end.
In Memory of M.H. Stevens
Jan 6, 1963-February 15, 1995
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