Thursday 12 May 2011: Goodbyes
A Dream Lies Dead by Dorothy Parker
A dream lies dead here. May you softly go
Before this place, and turn away your eyes,
Nor seek to know the look of that which dies
Importuning Life for life. Walk not in woe,
But, for a little, let your step be slow.
And, of your mercy, be not sweetly wise
With words of hope and Spring and tenderer skies.
A dream lies dead; and this all mourners know:
Whenever one drifted petal leaves the tree-
Though white of bloom as it had been before
And proudly waitful of fecundity-
One little loveliness can be no more;
And so must Beauty bow her imperfect head
Because a dream has joined the wistful dead!
I don't think I will ever be able to get my head around the loss of you. By taking your young life you have robbed the world of a shiny bright ray of hope. I feel wrapped in a wet cloak of grief that I can't shake off. There is just no sense in this. I keep waiting for someone to tell me there was a mistake. Because it seems too impossible to fathom What could have been going through your mind? That you couldn't see past the hour, the day, the month of your sadness to know that you had such a bright future ahead of you?
You weren't in our life long but it was no mystery what Isabella saw in you. You shared a particular brand of weirdness and I know she saw you as a kindred spirit. I keep seeing you sitting acroos from me at the dining room table. Telling us about what it was like to be a modern day feminist, descussing your political views, your love of Dorothy Parker. I felt like the world was a beter place for having young people like you in it. And when Isabella mocked me and you said "Shut up, I love your Mother, she's so normal." I thought I wished I had had a friend like you when I had been a young women. You talked about the trail of suicide in your family and that frightened me. But I didn't give it too much thought because you seemed so positive, so excited by life. I keep wondering if I couldn't have done something, been there for you in some way. I will struggle with that for a long time. That final text you sent my girl will haunt me forever. I fear that she thinks she shouldn't have cancelled on you that day to have lunch with her family. That she is worried that perhaps you wouldn't be gone if she had been there with you. But I don't know because she won't talk about it. She won't discuss it at all and that fills my heart with such pain. I have to find a way to pull myself together. I know Isabella has been so worried about upsetting me. So much that she has carried this around by herself all week. She senses my vulnerablity at the moment and I don't want her to be burdened with that. I have to be strong for her, steady, but I can't seem to stop weeping. I can't stop thinking of your parents and what they are going through. I did a portrait of you a few months ago. You said you hated having your photo taken but now I am glad I made you. I will send it to your parents. It captures so much about you C, your intelligent eyes, your sweet shy smile. I will cherish that photo. Maybe I will make a print for Isabella as well. Perhaps it will be a comfort to her somehow.
Goodbye C, you will stay in my heart. If your star can't shine in this world it certainly will twinkle in the heavens.