sorry is such a sorry word
my very good friend lost her husband "salty" yesterday.
she doesn't live in hong kong, but we have been texting back and forth the past 24 hours.
i can't share what she has written, but her words have caused me despair and hope.
i won't try to describe the despair, but i will the hope. hope that i could be so brave, so focused, so "what would magnificent want" so present to the love people were pouring out, so able to accept help.
sorry seems like such a weak word. but at times, it is the only word you can offer.
and now, we have verbs. actions that make us a better partner. because we have the opportunity to be one today. unlike "my oprah" who is trying to make sense of the word widow. i can give her that.
i can remember with Oprah about the time Salty, Oprah and I "watched" the opening of the vancouver olympics and typing cheeky comments to me " a hockey player in a pickup truck….yes, these are Canadian Olympics!" because the local channels here weren't televising the games.
We tell our children, "use your words", but when someone we love has died, it is time to use our actions. To live our lives better.
W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
And here is my personal favourite, I've blogged about this one before….
Ithaca
When you set out for Ithaka ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty,
as long as a rare emotion
touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.
Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter with what gratitude,
what joy – ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centres,
and to buy good merchandise, mother of pearl and coral,
amber and ebony, and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities, to gather stores of knowledge
from the learned.
Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood
what these Ithakas mean
— Kavafy
