Friday, 15 January 2021

Occasional Letters to Death #4

Visiting the Departed




Death is before me today:

Like the recovery of a sick man,

Like going forth into a garden after sickness.


Death is before me today:

Like the odor of myrrh,

Like sitting under a sail in a good wind.


Death is before me today:

Like the course of a stream,

Like the return of a man from the war-galley to his house.


Death is before me today:

Like the home that a man longs to see,

After years spent as a captive.


Neil Gaiman, Preludes & Nocturnes (The Sandman, #1)

 



Dear Death,


I spoke to four dead men today,

Their graves next to each other in my grandmother’s garden

I loved them all to varying degrees in Life

I love them to even more varying degrees in Death


The first man I spoke to was my grandfather

The degree to which I loved and love him is small,

As small as his mindedness was

But I was glad to swing by and say hello


The second man was sort of an adopted grandfather, I guess

He hung out at my grandmother’s house a lot

We all just went along with it

We all went along till he just became part of the family

I loved him in a pleasant sort of way

I still do

He told utterly fantastic stories that you could tell he utterly believed

He had an old-man smell that I liked


The third man I spoke to was my uncle, my Malume,

My mother’s older brother

He gave me some of his OCD

When I shine shoes or iron shirts, I think of him

I loved him

Even though he always shouted at me

I miss him and I am mad at him

He died in such a stupid way

Tuberculosis!

Treatable

He just had to take his pills


The last man I spoke to was my Malume too,

My mother’s middle brother

I loved him very much

He didn’t deserve it

He was trouble wearing a charming smile

We were all at peace the day he died too young

In Death, we all love him more than we did in Life


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