Susie, Most beautiful flower in my garden

                                                                        On May 21st Lily Rose passed peacefully through the veil. (She had a smile on her face six hours after her passage)

Lifting up the curtain of the blood, dear Susanne went for a jaunt behind the two-way mirror. She takes a stroll in the garden of flowers that she loves so much. From her square of white roses she salutes you in silence.

                                                                                                                                                             My dearest Lily Rose,

(Susie’s second and favorite name)

susie-in-blue-dress-web3.jpg

Your kindness made us little lambs,

Your courage made us brave,

Your sensitivity made us sing,

Your love of birds made us fly,

Your artistic talents made us servant of beauty,

Your generosity freed us from the fear of lack,

Your adventurous spirit made us explorers,

Your love of life made us life lovers,

Your character was not free of edges

But tell me of a rose free of her thorns!

Some speculate that you sunk into the night

But lovers know that you jumped into the light.

I trust you now sail the high sea of the invisible

In the robust embrace of divine love.

For all your gifts,

Plentiful and boundless,

We thank thee

____&&&____

susie-in-blue-dress-web.jpg

Dear Susie,

I have a beautiful memory of being with you Susie on the river in the everglades…

Being in your love and warmth,

pink shirt and smiles in the sunshine.

Your adventurous spirit and strength.

Your presence, and sweetness in the moment

Sharing old and new stories

A second mother and friend

Continue in your inner journey into the unknown to be known

with clarity and calm

Surrounded in love

I love you!

Love Alicia

susie-around-cape-horn-web.jpg

Susie sailing around Cape Horn

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Dear Susie,

Until we meet again, in whatever realm I wanted to tell you how much I love you and how grateful I am for all the memories we shared together.

The cloudless storm in summer 1997, a heart to heart talk in A large gathering in Belguim? Later that year. Marc’s 50th birthday in the beautiful chateau with many friends. Did we play the piano together that evening? A walk and talk on the way to the Bois the Boulogne, maybe several times, climbing to the fortress in Gibraltar, and of course the big storm, and arriving at sunset into Madeira. And in all these, your sweet smile and soft voice. Shopping together for the Atlantic crossing. Many starry nights on the way. Making gardener songs on the way to Madeira. Beautiful dinner up on the rock in one of these Greek islands on our way to Ithaca. And a meeting in the coffee shop in Ithaca. And the lace store in the harbor before embarking to the Azores. Watching the endless Dolphins together. Being grateful for the care you had for Zohar. Breakfast in the hotel in Brazil. More and more memories come as I write these, and the image of Susie I will carry with me as long as I am on this earth journey has a clearer focus. A walk on some Caribbean island. And the Yacht club in Bora Bora. Sun bathing together on the front net. Beautiful dinner near Lille with Thomas in October 2008. And following walk through a quiet town on Sunday morning, Very green and misty. Which bring another misty walk in the Azores. And endless little details from the Atlantic crossing. The market in Carteret. My 50’th birthday there, and Marc’s 60’s in Dordogne, going on the canoes together. How much you enriched my life.

A beautiful dinner at the boat restaurant just a few months ago in Scotland. Seeing you write in your diary and  draw. Crepes and bear in Maisons Laffitte.

What shared memories do you take with you to the other place?

Last week I woke up one morning with a memory dump. It took a few minutes and I wondered if I was dying. Then I remembered you.

I wondered if there is anything that was not said and found nothing. We probably said it all when I came over a year ago to help you move. With and without words. And we both said farewell last summer in Scotland, even when you said you planned to stay a little longer.

So I wish you again a safe journey, and please take my love and all the love that surrounds you. I am sure you will use every bit of it.

Rulik

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Susie crossing the Sahara desert

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Dear Susanne,

Spring is a brutal time of year: particularly when the body is unable to be carried along in the upsurge, when the excess of energy only mocks one’s frailty. And the moments of bare reality become all too frequent, and one’s presence is suspended before an ever-diminishing backdrop. Soul, talk to me; do not hide. You are all I really have, do not hide. Flourish as the emerging cherry blossom on the tree across the road, presenting itself to the world even before its leaves have arrived to form a regular bouquet. Soul, just like the cherry blossom, show me your presence away from the pleasant arbours in which I have always sought you out. I no longer have the strength for the search. 

Susie, I have sat down for hours wondering what I can say to you. What do the living, even the half-living, know what to say to the departing ones? Amongst the hat-boxes full of cherished memories I can hear the infectious peal of your laughter, and with my inward vision experience again the events you orchestrated, the settings you invested with so much beauty. And I sing hosannas to your sweet essence.

Have I dared too much in writing this? Yet it is all I have to give. I am what I write, I write what I am.

A blackbird has landed on the cherry tree with full-throated song giving free expression to your spirit, and it eases my disquietude. May your Soul sing as fully and as sweetly. 

I wish you much strength, send you much love,

Thomas

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Encore moi… encore vous… encore nous.

Noués. Amis et voyageurs.
Maintenant a un vrai poète (Baudelaire) de vous rappeler tout simplement que je vous porte dans mon petit coeur.

Brunella

Mais les vrais voyageurs sont ceux-là seuls qui partent
Pour partir, coeurs légers, semblables aux ballons,
De leur fatalité jamais ils ne s’écartent,
Et, sans savoir pourquoi, disent toujours : Allons !

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Susie… gone with the wind… to the ocean

Ceux-là dont les désirs ont la forme des nues,
Et qui rêvent, ainsi qu’un conscrit le canon,
De vastes voluptés, changeantes, inconnues,
Et dont l’esprit humain n’a jamais su le nom

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Dear Marc,

It seems so appropriate that Susie’s photo on the blog appears to be

a picture of her astral body.She will always be with us.With all my love,Gernot

“Why do you worry about life and death?Deathlessness is our real nature.The real “I” exists here

and now.There is neither creation nor destruction, neither destiny nor free will,

neither path nor achievement.This is the final truth.”

Ramana Maharshi

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Dearest Susie and Marc,


Please know you are in the thoughts of more friends

than you may even realize. You’ve both meant so

much to us. I can only send my love and it’s always

been there. Sheila


From Rumi

rumi-sheila.jpeg

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très cher marc,

les mots ne pourraient pas éxprimer ma profonde compassion

que je ressens dans mon coeur depuis que j’ai appris que

susan a quitté la place à ton côté, dans ce monde …

pourtant, je la sais plus vivante, plus présente que jamais …

de tout coeur

marion

Fallen Into Grace

 

She was a leaf on wisdom’s tree

that sipped the sap of silent grace;

unlocked her heart to simply be,

while bound to realms of time and space.

 

Absorbed the sun, the wind, the rain,

she was a leaf on wisdom’s tree;

enjoyed the moment to maintain

a state of deep serenity.

 

She didn’t fight reality;

what comes, must come – what goes, must go.

She was a leaf on wisdom’s tree.

in turmoil, she went with the flow.

 

When Winter’s claw knocked at her door,

she smiled and knew with certainty:

soon, other realms she would explore.

She was a leaf on wisdom’s tree.

***

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Wild Geese

wild-geese-web.jpg

 

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Dear Marc and Susie

Thinking about you.

Talking with you in my head on a not very clear day in my head.

Trying to make sense of this life this love we share.

Wishing you a good moment as they come.

Sending love

Yours

Dalia

wild-geese.jpg

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Susie, my darling, in our many conversations, I don’t think I ever put it that way before - you are a beautiful ray of sunshine, my darling, and I believe the beautiful beings on your new journey are awaiting you with much love.

I believe that their light is shining more brightly at the thought of your light joining theirs, your love meeting their love of you.

Can you hear the smile in my voice, Susie? The miracle of life continues. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend.

Justin had a wonderful idea to have us record a few words for you. I know you would agree that this is very loving of him. Hopefully we will be able to make it happen.

I send you much love and tenderness, mu Susie. I love you. And my very dear Marco, I embrace you with much love.

Julia

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Hello, dear Marc~I wanted to share this poem from Hafiz,

Three quarters of the world dances all night,

the waves moving as they do on the seas.

 

And when the wind takes a tree in its arms,

what happens then?

 

The green branches of the earth may seem to

reach out and touch us if we near them in a forest,

a meadow, a field.

 

Does not all sway to a rhythm that began long

before we stood upright?

 

We are in the mountain’s home, just guests.

Guests of the sky, the stream the mountain soil

we nurse from.

 

Would not you be happier following their

example- bowing in unseen ways and then rising

up?

Ruth

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“And yet…

I wish but for the thing I have.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep.

The more I give to thee, the more I have,

For both are Infinite.”

 

Romeo and Juliet

William Shakespeare

 

 

I love you both.

Mari Reeves

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 Mon cher Marc,

je sais bien que tu connais et aimes ce poème.

http://grecenormande.blogspot.com/2006/07/ithaque-de-konstantinos-kavafis.html
J’éspère qu’en le lisant encore une fois (dans la traduction de notre bien aimée Marguerite…) tu sauras te souvenir qu’on est tous des voyageurs.

Susie et toi avez eu l’heureuse chance d’etre camarades d’un voyage extraordinaire où toutes les meilleures possibilitées de se connaitre et s’aimer sont devenues une réalité pour vous deux.

C’est difficile de se sentir reconnaissant en ce moment. Et pourtant je sais qu’au fond de toi tu l’es. Et cela aide. Ou aidera…

Je t’embrasse fort, mon cher ami. Avec amour et douleur.

Pardonne-moi mes mots maladroits et insuffisants.

Brunella

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Dear Susie and Marco,

Sending you love and blessings.

My heart is with you.

Maybe you can enjoy T.S. Eliot, some Bach and a Hafiz poem.

Some simple things stay forever, like smelling flowers and sailing into many sunsets together.

Love,

Rulik

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

(Andras Schiff playing the Goldberg Variations)

http://www.youtube.com/v/r_aKvTOUrrY

These days the only friend that is faultless

Is a bottle of red wine and a book of poems.

Wherever you are going, go alone, for the road to enlightenment is

Very narrow and full of curves.

And take your wineglass with you, for there are no guarantees.

I am not the only writer that is worried about having a job.

Knowledge without experience is the “wise man’s” fate.

In this noisy street, the voice-of reason says:

The world and all its possessions is no security.

Let me tell you an old story: The face of an old camel destined by

Fate to be black, cannot become white from washing and cleaning.

Everything you see around you, will one day disappear,

Except Love, which lasts forever.

I had great hopes that, with my heart, I would unite with You.

But along the road of Life, death lurks like highway robbery.

I say hold on to the moon-faced One’s hair, and don’t tell a soul!

For the effect of Saturn and the stars, is agony and good luck.

No one will ever see Hafez sober, never;

He is drunk on the wine of endless Eternity, and keeps asking for more!

Thomas Rain Crowe - ‘In Wineseller’s Street’ #25

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Dear Marc and Susie,

Jennifer just wrote and found me sitting at the desk, ready to respond…

Sending you both Love, Gratitude and Warmth from here.

The voices of three small children colouring in the other room accompany this letter,

they chatter contentedly

like little birds..

Hold hands

Be close

Fly

My heart  is with you both

Marieke

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Dear Marc,

Our heart goes out to you both. You are daily in our thoughts.

We found these words from William Blake  comforting during difficult times. Could you please share it with Susie and kiss her for us.

Love,

Karen & Edward

“To see a World in a grain of sand

And a Heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour…

It is right it should be so:

Man was made for joy and woe;

And when this we rightly know

Through the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,

A clothing for the soul divine.

Under every grief and pine

Runs a joy with silken twine.

William Blake 

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Dearest Marc and Dearest Sooz,
Here we are in Oregon House thinking of you both half a world away. Here, we listen to the coyotes call at night, hear the insects buzz, watch the hummingbird dart and dance at their sugared water. And still we think of you, half a world away, knowing there is no distance between us and the love we share.

(Johnny just wandered by to read my words. He kissed the top of my head and said, “Yeah”.)

Each night we drop off the body like a worn out rag, resting in the deep silence of what we always have been and are. Death must be similar, so there is nothing to fear as we quietly return Home.

Love,
Ellen (and John)

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Aujourd’hui Suzy,  tu te prépares à partir pour un  grand voyage,  le plus beau peut-être,  le plus long,  le plus mystérieux…….  Où  nous pourrons nous  réunir à nouveau et découvrir  enfin tout ce qu’il cache ,  un monde riche  de découvertes et de connaissances …où l’âme s’est débarassée de son enveloppe,  évaporée………et bien que nos chemins se soient quelque peu éloignés,  on se reverra Suzy, il le faut  !!!!!

On  t’embrasse bien fort…
Sylvine et Patrick

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Cher Marco,

j’éspère te soulager un peu à travers les mots d’un grand consolateur…

Mais surtout…

je pense à vous, à toi … au calvaire que tu es en train de cheminer…

Destin cruel et pourtant destin qu’ on doit accepter.

Courage, CAPITAIN! Notre bateau a encore besoin de ta sagesse, de ta douceur.

On saura accueillir ton coeur dechiré… je te le promets…

Brunella

 

Elle est malaade, helas ! que faut-il que je face

Elle est malaade, helas ! que faut-il que je face ?
Quel confort, quel remede ? Ô cieux, et vous m’oyez
Et tandis devant vous, ce dur mal vous voyez
Oultrager sans pitié la douceur de sa face !

Si vous l’ostez, cruels, à ceste terre basse,
S’il faut d’elle là haut que riches vous soyez,
Au moins pensez à moy et, pour Dieu, m’ottroyez,
Qu’au moins tout d’une main Charon tous deux nous passe ;

Ou s’il est, ce qu’on dit des deux freres d’Helene,
Que l’un pour l’autre au ciel, et là bas se promène,
Or accomplissez moy une pareille envie.

Ayez, ayez de moy, ayez quelque pitié,
Laissez nous, en l’honneur de ma forte amitié,
Moy mourir de sa mort, ell’ vivre de ma vie.

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The zero hour in Susanne’s life – at least in the time since I have known her – occurred about twenty years ago.  In those days, she was a quiet and reliable supporting member of the Palo Alto center, modest to the point of self-deprecation.

“Transformation” is a much-abused word, but synonyms are not always easy to find.  “Self-reinvention” has the taint of marketing and P.R. about it, and is almost as much of a cliché.  Nevertheless, Susanne faced a nasty turning-point in her life, and dealt with the cards she had been dealt inventively, decisively, intuitively.  I, for one, would never have expected it.

Faced with the break-up of her long marriage, she moved to France.  And from there, everything began again.

Her friends in the Palo Alto center were supportive, but some of us were cautious as well.  A romance with Marc Bouriche, a lifelong bachelor, seemed like a longshot to those who didn’t know him – and at the time, I didn’t.  It seemed like a gamble, but she needed a game-changer … another cliché, alas!

Many won’t remember Susan in those long-ago days, and how much she blossomed under Marc’s love.  To mention transformation would be inadequate without also mentioning another much-abused word:  love.  They loved each other, tenderly, respectfully, generously (words that aren’t quite as shopworn) and opened that love to the many guests to their home – I was honored to be one of them.  Their sixteen-year marriage was an shining success, though “success” doesn’t quite capture what they had achieved.  (The limitation of words!)  Their love was obvious, and it was inspiring.

My last conversation with her was by phone last December. I was in Paris, and a planned get-together was cancelled because she wasn’t feeling well; Marc told me in his office that more bad news had just rolled in from the doctors.  So instead I spoke to her the following day by phone from my 17th century, 6th floor flat across the street from the Bibliothèque Nationale on the Rue des Petits Champs.  I was to make my first foray into southern France in a few hours, and although I had once lived in Europe and have traveled widely for decades, I had always, cautiously, avoided driving while abroad.  So I was wary of the silver Citroen I would be driving from Avignon, across southern France, to Lagrasse in the Cathar country.  Susanne explained to me the history of Laguedoc and Occitan, the language of the troubadours – another sign, if a superficial one, of how much she had blossomed and changed. She also gave me also some practical tips about French driving laws – it proved very useful.  But then Susanne had always been practical, despite her apparent airiness.

She will be missed, but I expect she’s one of those people whose example and influence will grow over the years – certainly with the generations, through her son Justin, but also through the hearts of those of us who knew her.  And they are many.

Cynthia

Cynthia Haven

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Dearest Marc,

Just want you to know that Susie and you are in my thoughts

and prayers. Please tell Susie that “Aisha” is with her in spirit

and

am forever happy that I was able to share some of my best

moments

on this planet with her. I do and always will have you both in my

heart.

Much love to you,

Karen

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Thank you Jenni, for your kind note about our dear friends.

I know that you, Menehem, Marc and

Pamela touched and were touched by Susie and by love,

and that the Susie we know is actually,

already, divinely well.

Just now, I hear a song-bird in the garden,

and feel visited by her gentle nature.

She lives not only in our hearts, but also infinitely,

in our nature - spirit. Indeed,

we only think we leave Home. Mercifully, the veil does get lifted,

and our “story” ends well.

Be well!

James and Alla

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Marc, Susanne,

J’ai passé la journée sans accès internet car nous étions en

promenade avec les enfants.

J’avais eu un plaisir immense à vous revoir au Forum 104

au point que mes pensées

furent encore plus souvent que d’habitude tournées vers

vous, et les occasions ne manquèrent pas,

mais depuis que j’ai eu Claudine au téléphone ce matin,

aucune seconde ne se passe

sans que mon cœur ne soit terriblement malmené.

Marc les mots me manquent, mais que mes forces diffusent

vers vous dans ces moments éprouvants.

Nous vous embrassons avec une très grande affection.

Jacques et Line

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Mes mots me semblent courts ou maladroits pour vous dire

combien je vous porte tout les deux au plus profond de

mon cœur. Alors il y a Dante, dont voici

quatre vers de cette Divine Comédie que nous avons “partagée”.

“De là on voyait très peu du dehors ;
mais dans ce peu je voyais les étoiles
plus grandes et plus claires qu’à l’habitude.

Ainsi en les regardant le sommeil me prit.”

Avec toute notre amitié

Jean-Francis et Claudine

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Dear Marc

Your poem for Lily Rose is so lovely.

Susie is part of you and part of us, her friends too.

To honor Susie, may you(we) honor that which she honored.

Happiness, beauty, kindness, art, music, adventure, friendship,

Love for Justin, her son, a young man just beginning his life’s sojourn.

Love for you, Marco, her Anam Cara

Now you embark on a new episode of your life

May you experience being alone without feeling lonely.

Yet allow the body to mourn the loss of your loved one.

It is a loss…yes.. a loss. A deep heartfelt loss.

But then an opening.

There is a stillness in being alone and yet it can be full.

Allow yourself time and do not self judge.

Feel the pain and hug yourself.

Be the wise Marc holding the grieving Marc in his arms.

You are connected to beings here and beings that have parted.

Your friends, Susie, John O’Donohue, Hafiz.

Call on them when you need either in real time or in your heart.

At the time Susie passed, I was with the Poulains.

We were taking turns holding baby Isabella Sophia in our arms.

It is poetic, yes?

Susie, Isabella Sophia, Lily Rose, Isabella Sophia… the joy in new form.

Much Love,

Jenni

john_singer_sargent_-_carnation_lily_lily_rose_.jpg

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Mon cher Marc,

ta belle fleur, notre belle fleur sera avec toi, avec nous pour toujours,

parce que la beauté ne meurt jamais.

Elle reste pour nous consoler, pour nous encourager.

Dans son jardin de roses blanches elle a trouvé la paix et

l’harmonie éternelle dont nous avons bien soif ici.

Je sais que tu souffres inouiment car tu l’as aimé d’un amour

immense, car tu l’aimeras pour toujours.
Mais en face du vouloir des dieux on peut seulement baisser la tete.

Je pleure tendrement avec toi, cher ami. Nos coeurs battent

ensemble encore un fois, pour toujours.
Brunella

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Marco,

Je suis si triste d’apprendre que Suzanne nous a quitté…..

Elle est magnifique sur cette photo, on dirait un ange…

Marc je voulais te dire tout mon amour, je cherchais un

poème à la hauteur….

Je n’en ai pas trouvé qui soit aussi fort que cette journée….

qui soit aussi fort que Suzie….

Les mots me manquent….

J’ai du mal à imaginer ta peine mais je suis là en

pensée avec toi, avec vous…..

Tu peux m’appeler si tu le souhaites…

Je pense à Elle, je pense à toi…..

Love

Julie

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Dearest Marc

So sorry to hear about your loss.

It’s so sad to lose a friend,a lover,

a comrade on this earthly journey.

Susie was such a sweet, tender, light being,

and also strong and present in her own unique way.

I can only imagine how hard these last months

have been for you, walking with her on her last path,

knowing you can not go with her once she passes

into the beyond.

I am thinking about you my dear friend and

sending you hugs tears and smiles.

Love

Dalia

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Face aux vents et au grains jamais vous ne faillirent..

Elle était ton Compas et toi son Capitaine
Suzanne avait ce don de toujours transformer
les orages à venir en des trouées célestes
Vous avanciez ainsi sur les bords dentelés
De nos astres les plus beaux en les transfigurant ,
De ses tendres sourires et d’un léger soupire
elle savait à foison y déposer les siens;
Mésanges charbonnières  et tous ces Passereaux,
Marquant à tout jamais la route que tu dois suivre ,
Mon cher Marc ,aujourd’hui elle est là, devant toi,
De son ton délicat et s’imposant jamais,
elle te fait remarquer qu’ils sont là sur ton bras
Dans le creux de ta main ils y picorent la vie
Dans le creux de ton cœur ils y trouvent la constance
De poursuivre pour toujours sur ces crêtes radieuses,
le chemin lumineux déjà bien engagé.
Main dans la main je vous vois avancer .
Suzanne a la main ferme et semble te guider…
baisers et amour pour vous deux
Pascal et barbara

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Dear Marc,

She has departed. Her sweet life is over. And gratitude outweighs sorrow.

Gratitude because for us, her dear friends, she has given us many fine

memories, moments in which we have lived a shared presence.

But our sadness does not know your pain. Yet knowing you,

fine and noble friend, I know that your loss will be exalted and

transformed into an ever-present inducement to share the

company of your own Soul wherever your journey takes you. 

I read your email and beautiful blog last night after returning

home from hospital tests. I return in an hour’s time to undergo

surgery on lymph nodes which will keep me away from home

for a couple of days. Yet I shall carry with me the poignancy

of the last twenty-four hours which will be my inducement to

share the coming days in the company of my own Soul. 

Much love and fortitude, dear friend.

Thomas

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Cher Marc,

Je t’envoie un mot pour la page de Susie sur le blog

Je ne sais pas le faire seule

” Comme tes anges terrestres s’étaient écartés un instant, l’Ange Divin est apparu

et tu lui as souri.

   Tendrement Il t’enveloppa de son aile et t’emporta vers la Cité Céleste.

   C’est alors qu’ une émanation légère et scintillante remplit l’espace.

   Ta douceur et ton Amour étaient restés derrrière toi.

    J’en reconnus les effluves et m’en approchai.

    Elles sont maintenant avec moi pour toujours.”

Much Love to you and Justin

martine

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Bonsoir Marc,

Toutes nos affectueuses pensées vont vers vous et Susanne

que vous nous avez permis de connaître.

Deux vers de Jules Supervielle me viennent en vous écrivant :

“On voyait le sillage et nullement la barque,

Preuve que le bonheur était passé par là.”

Vous le savez, l’amour rend toute trace pérenne.

Bien à vous.

Olivier

___________________________________________________________________________________

Dearest Marc and Susie:

The undying rose is blooming;

All growth needs new shoots.

And losing autumns’ stillness

Love’s seeds sewn will flower

On and on in infinite life.

Then let us dance this dance

All the way out my friends

And when it’s time for home

Turn fully, freely, tenderly

into  our abiding  self-nature.

And know that knowing

without understanding.

That peace that lies in all things

eternal, effulgent, ineffable.

That being infinitely here

and now and always,

like a spring rose, beginning.

Love and be well my dear Marc.

James and Alla

_________________________________________________________________________________

Hello  my dear Marc,

I just wanted to slip this little love note under your door to say

we are loving you, holding you in our hearts, and tending to

the garden of love you have worked in so long.

So rest this day my friend, and be well.

We know Love is not a word, a thought, an idea or an ideal.

Love is an active principle in all human nature - in fact,

in all nature. We can call it “goodness” but the word does

no more than label what love actually is. We know it’s all action,

but even seeing that love is a movement of something

that has all the power of Reality - perhaps does not draw back

the curtainall the way. That, my friend, is the mystery we call “love.”

We don’t really know what it is…and yet we do! Ah, blessed paradox!

We can’t say much about it Marc, but as some sage once said,

we know what love is - that it is we know; what it is we cannot “know”

with our body/mind…how could the limited know the unlimited?

Or the finite, know the infinite? So this knowing is not in or of, time.

It is our timeless, unborn nature, and that infinity in us, is us.

Infinity is what knows “infinity”.

Perhaps the shortest three words about love are: Love loves itself. Or in (four) other words, “Love loves loving itself”

We could even say that this love is beyond love - beyond anything we could formulate to describe the formless. And yet we know this wordless, indeed, “loveless” being - it is ournatural and affectionate awareness...(This love of which we speak, you and I, around the dining table with Walt)

…and so we hold you tenderly in this love that feeds,

that nourishes the roots of our being; this love that lives

in all life’s expressions. And we thank you for showing

so many of us how to garden.

Be well, stay in the sun, and please be in touch!

Loving,

James

__________________________________________________________________________

Marc,

Susanne est là dans la pièce à côté, lumineuse dans sa robe irisée,

la cloison est fine tel un voile, c’est bien cela qui nous fait souffrir.

Et tu as levé ce voile, Marc, pour nous offrir le rayonnement de celle

que tu aimes tant. Immense merci, le mot étant pourtant si petit

Réalité intangible que la vie. Don merveilleux de la nature, de l’univers,

de Dieu; passage riche en échanges, en sentiments, qui nous

transforme nous attache tant. Nourrissons le chemin.

Du fin fond du cœur nous t’embrassons.

Jacques et Line

___________________________________________________________________________________

A present From dear Jonathan Beth:

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have cross the bar.

Tennyson

________________________________________________________________________________

Bien Cher Marco,

Un silence profondément riche s’installe doucement avec tendresse.

Susie nous entoure de sa joie, avec ses manifestations infinies d’amour.

Dans une carte elle dit simplement: “It’s a wonderful life.”

Une vie remplie d’émerveillement dans toutes ses dimensions.

Elle nous invite à y ouvrir nos bras.

Je t’embrasse avec beaucoup d’affection.

Julia

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Love to you, camarade!

En feuilletant les livres d’une librairie, aujourd’hui,

ces quelques mots de Paulo Coelho ont attire
mon attention:

“There is nothing wrong with anxiety.
Although we cannot control God’s time, it is part

of the human condition to want to receive the
thing we are waiting for as quickly as possible.
Or to drive away whatever is causing our fear…
Anxiety was born in the very same moment

as mankind. And since we will never be able

to master
it, we will have to learn to live with it -

just as we have learned to live with storms.”

Love,

Francis

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

from Steven

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

William Shakespeare. »

_________________________________________________________________________________

Dear Marc,

It is a lovely morning here. Roses abound and birdsong.

The coolness fades in the warmth of the morning light.

Love,

Sydney

“God, give us each our own death, the dying that proceeds from

each of our lives: the way we loved, the meanings we made,

our need…For we are only the rind and the leaf.

The great death, that each of us carries inside, is the fruit.

Everything enfolds it. ”

Rilke


Inline image 1

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dear Marc,

Hope you are coping as best as you can in these trying times;

may your strength continue to grow to nurture your eternal

love for our very beloved Susie who will always be in hearts

of her friends.  I will always remember her with warmth for

her genrous and genuine love, her dances, her laughters,

our little banters, her Christmas egg nogs and decorations,

her animated e-cards, her ribbons, and all the other

wonderful memories.

Here are some poems by Omar Khayyam that I have translated;

I hope Susie will like them.  If you like them too please include

them on Susie’s memoriam page.  There is also this instrumental

music below which is called ‘Mare Nostrum’ (Our Sea) by

Jordi Savall’s group (up to you).

http://www.youtube.com/v/wGPb9fiSgfo&list=PLACE86CB786BFF64B

I have chosen three quatrainsfrom Omar Khayyam because

Susie and I had started working on a Khayyam poetry

project which included piano music; Susie was very careful

in choosing the pieces.  She thoroughly enjoyed the project

as long as it lasted.  We had a terrific time together before

fate stepped in.

 

 

In the heart must not plant the tree of heartache;

You must always read from the book of mirth.

Must drink wine and follow the heart’s desire,

It is clear, how long you’re to abide in the world!

 

The mountain will dance if you temper it with wine.

His mind is faulty, whoever finds fault with wine.

You command me to repent drinking wine!?

Know that there is a Spirit who nurtures man.


 

That priceless ruby is from a different mine,

And that unique pearl has a different sign.

Notions of this and that are fictions: yours and mine.

The story of love is told in a different tongue.

 

Much love as always,

Clarisse

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Marc,

There are no words.

I sent this photo to Miranda. 5/21 is her birthday.

Miranda wrote in response to my e-mail:

am very sorry to hear about susan. She was a really

wonderful person and I will never forget her.

I hop you are doing ok, and
I wanted to tell you that you and mom and very

important to me and hope you take at least partial

credit for the person I have
become today. The trip to the Sahara changed me

forever and I am very appreciative for that unique

experience of another country and world.

suzie-mir-karen-1-sahara.jpg

Love,

Roger Kent

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________

Hello Camarade!

“���Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivor’s mind
toward some resolution which it may never find.���
Robert Anderson. The beginning of that quote is the most often cited (it was part in the dialogue of
the movie “Tuesdays with Morrie”.)

From Paulo Coelho in “Manuscript found in Accra”:
In answer to the question from a young man who would have to leave that night: “I was never sure
which direction to take.”
“Some immediately brush this question aside…
Some start to read what what written by those before them, and suddenly they find an answer
which they judge to be correct. When that happens, they become the slaves to that answer. They
draw up laws intended to force others to accept what they believe to be the sole reason for
existence. They build temples and courts…
Finally, there are those who saw at once that the question was a trap; there is no answer… They
focus not just on the goal to be reached, but on everything happening around them. They often
have to stop because their strength fail them. At such moments, Love appears and says to them:
You think you are heading toward a specific point, but the whole justification for the goal’s
existence lies in your love for it. Rest a little, but as soon as you can, get up and carry on. Because
ever since your goal found out that you war traveling toward it, it has been running to meet you.”
“Our great goal in life is to love. The rest is silence. We need to love. Even when it leads us to the
land where the lakes are made of tears - that secret, mysterious place, the land of tears!”

Lots of shared love and tears,

Francis

___________________________________________________________________

Bonjour.

Vous ne me connaissez pas, mais j’ai été l’assistante de Susanne chez ICON.

J’ai appris la nouvelle aujourd’hui, qui m’a anéantie. J’avais beaucoup de

tendresse pour Susanne. Elle a été toujours très présente pour moi,

dans les bons comme les mauvais jours. Elle faisait preuve de beaucoup

d’optimiste et d’humanité. C’était une femme magnifique à tous points de vue.
Je tenais à vous présenter toutes mes condoléances ainsi qu’à sa famille.
Céline

____________________________________________________________________

Of all of my memories of growing up, the ones that stand out are our singing together.

From our duet in the Eighth Grade Musical, to our “Silent Night” duet at the Kent Place

Star, to singing “Shall I, wasting in Despair…” with my father, to all the Choruses,

Glee Club practices, Triple Trio performances, and Christmas Eve Services,

music ties us together forever. Susie, you are inextricably linked to me and

I will always miss you.

This is a picture of us in Triple Trio, from 1968:

image.jpeg

Cushing Samp and Susie

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bonjour Marc,

Nous ne nous connaissons pas, et j’étais trop émue hier pour vous dire plus que quelques mots.

Aujourd’hui, je voudrais  vous dire à quel point la cérémonie d’adieu était chaleureuse et

émouvante, à l’image de Suzanne elle-même.

J’ai rencontré Suzanne dans l’atelier d’Edgar il y a plusieurs années, alors que nous

essayions toutes les deux de retranscrire sur une toile, avec plus ou moins d’adresse,

nos émotions et aspirations de beauté. C’était l’année où elle a passé des mois sur

son portrait de Rembrandt, et quand elle n’en pouvait plus, nous nous retirions dan

s le petit couloir pour discuter et rire jusqu’à ce qu’Edgar vienne nous remettre au

travail. Suzanne aimait tellement les gens, elle connaissait les noms et la vie de

tous les participants de l’atelier là où moi je les identifiais surtout par leurs tableaux…

Ensuite, nous avons commencé à déjeuner ensemble puisque son bureau était près

du mien. Après, elle a changé de travail et vous avez déménagé, et on s’était dit que,

puisqu’on était désormais voisines, on allait se voir plus souvent.  La vie en a décidé

autrement. La dernière fois que je l’ai vu, elle était déjà malade, ce qui ne l’empêchait

pas de me raconter le plaisir qu’elle avait à explorer les petites routes de la région,

ou de regretter le souci que sa maladie vous causait.

Notre amitié était donc quelque sorte en marge de notre « vraie vie », une de

ces rencontres fortuites qui se transforme en cadeau.  Hier, sa présence était si

forte parmi nous qu’il était difficile de croire qu’elle était partie, et je vous en remercie.

Gita

________________________________________________________________

Hello Marc,

How are you? I keep on thinking about Susanne and feel so sad about her departure.

This poem, by Polish poet Jan Twardowski, is for Susanne:

_Hello Marc,

How are you? I keep on thinking about Susanne and feel so sad about her departure.

This poem, by Polish poet Jan Twardowski, is for Susanne:

Let us hurry to love people, they depart so quickly.

Let us love people now they leave us so fast  The shoes
 remain empty and the phone rings on What's unimportant
 drags on like a cow The meaningful sudden takes us by
 surprise The silence that follows so normal it's Hideous
 like chastity born most simply from despair When we
think of someone who's been taken from us.  Don't be
sure you have time for there's no assurance As all good
 fortune security deadens the senses It comes simultaneously
 like pathos and humour Like two passions not as strong
as one They leave fast grow silent like a thrush in July
 Like a sound somewhat clumsy or a polite bow To truly
see they close their eyes Though to be born is more of
 risk than to die We love still too little and always
too late.  Don't write of it too often but write once
and for all And you'll become like dolphin both gentle
and strong.  Let us love people now they leave us so
fast And the ones who don't leave won't always return
 And you never know while speaking of love If the
first one is last or the last one first.

Mes pensés sont avec toi.

Amicalement

Kasia

______________________________________________

Cher Marc,

Ce matin je suis allée marcher au lever du soleil dans ce parc de brimborion
que Suzanne connaît si bien
Je me suis permis de l’emmener avec moi pour ce temps de grâce
en sa compagnie
Une ombellifère pleine de promesses nous disait la lumière naissante
Si parfaitement ponctuée de petites fleurs blanches
Le soleil d’un printemps naissant se jouait des feuilles
Et des verts multiples, quelle joie quelle paix ! …
Suzanne j’entendais ton chant mélodieux au travers de celui de la
tourterelle rythmant nos pas comme dans l’enfance

Douce et si délicate lumière
Couleurs multiples et harmonie sont les mots qui me viennent
Lorsque tu es dans mes pensées,

Je bénis Dieu de nos rencontres si brèves et peu nombreuses
Fussent elle en ce monde, je crois qu’il est des rencontres éternelles
Qui marquent nos vies et les portent comme l’envol d’un papillon que jamais
on n’oubliera tant il nous est précieux.

MERCI Marc , seul mot qui me vienne les yeux fermés en communion

Valérie

______________________________________________________________

Marc,

A piece of poetry and some images that I would have sent to Sooz from Parabola today.

rodneysmith.jpg
I’ve come to the house of the Immortals:
In every corner, wildflowers bloom.
In the front garden, trees
Offer their branches for drying clothes;
Where I eat, a wine glass can float
In the springwater’s chill.
From the portico, a hidden path
Leads to the bamboo’s darkened groves.
Cool in a summer dress, I choose
From among the heaped piles of books.
Reciting poems in the moonlight, riding a painted boat…
Every place the wind carries me is home.

Yu Xuanji. 
Taken from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women 
(New York: Harper Collins, 1994); all poems are in English versions by Jane Hirschfield.

__________________________________________________________

Dear Marc

Her Presence will be on your side,

although her body turned to dust;

inside your heart she will abide

and send you subtle signs, I trust.

Through darkest moments of despair,

her Presence will be on your side

and, through her blessings, help you bear

the lonely days, the lonesome ride

through gloomy landscapes where reside

the fantoms of the fading past.

Her Presence will be on your side;

the night will cease, the grief won’t last.

Let Susan smile through your own smile,

your eyes, ears, heart, soul open wide,

while shadows linger for a while.

Her Presence will be on your side.

Marion

septembre-octobre-6.jpg

_________________________________________________________________

Son Amour est si grand

Son message est si beau!
Telle une chrysalide
Nos ailes se déploient …
De toutes les beautés
Vers lesquelles nous allons
Lily-Rose nous rejoins .
Une si confiante présence!!!
De ses mots les plus doux
Elle nous dit son Amour
D’un monde qu’elle aimait tant.
Ses yeux nous accompagnent.
Ses gestes sont si précis
Qu’ils cisèlent nos instants
En des pierres précieuses !
Ces instants partagés
Dont nous fument ses convives,
Honoré que nous sommes
De l’avoir côtoyé
Nous remercions nos Dieux
Qui nous l’ont envoyé …
Nous remercions la Grace
Nous te remercions ,toi,
D’être  toujours en nous …

Même les océans

Ne peuvent nous séparer !!

Nous sommes si prêt de toi,
Merci pour ta lumière
Et l’empreinte que tu laisses.

Susie…nous t’aimons tant!!

Pascal Barbara et Julie

_______________________________________________________________________________

Commenting the bible with his rabbi a Hassidic student grew puzzled by this sentence:“And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be upon thy heart”, he then asked to his rabbi: Why is it said this way?, why are we not told to place the words in our heart? The rabbi answered that it is not within man’s power to place the divine teaching directly in his heart, all that we can do is place them on the surface of the heart so that when the heart brakes they will drop in.

My heart broke and to my surprise I was given to contemplate the clouds of unknowing.

It is a common place for a farewell ceremony to refer to the mystery of death, of love, of time, of destiny, of identity. Three months elapsed since Susie’s passing, enough time to be thrilled by another mystery encompassing the previous five, enough time for a quick and chilly dive into the deep, unfathomable waters of otherness.

 

Nineteen years of a daily life with Susie, seventeen years of marriage made me think that I knew my beloved, I did not, or rather, I only knew the shell, the visible. Her wounds to be transfigured, her longing for the divine, the core, the invisible, I only glimpsed.

 

During our years of marriage I began to learn to not dwell on the seen but to trust in the unseen, for, the things that are seen are transient while the things that are unseen may breed the eternal in one, longing for recognition.

 

The sacredness of the covenant of marriage unveiled its true meaning: a unique and challenging human experience where is given the opportunity of engaging heaven and earth, the invisible and the visible in a creative conversation, within each other and between each other. The passing of the beloved does not end the conversation but give it a different form, certainly more elusive, certainly more profound as well.

 

I now better understand that a marriage is alike an iceberg with its emerged tip and its larger, deeper, underwater base where resides most of its potential; when it wrecks on the foreign shore of death, the base, at last exposed, reveals its inexhaustible dimensions and melts away its treasures back to the ocean of life.

 

Through a few poems to her and your own testimonies, I wish to partake some of the treasures delivered. Doing so may bring the tide of my tears to the shores of my eyelids but don’t be mistaken, I do not weep on my loss, for love is not confined to the veil of the body, I weep on the flaws of our human love, earthly, imperfect.

These tears be blessed so that they may become the seeds of many harvests to come, rich of of the joys of a perfected love…

 

Oh! She is whispering to me: Marco! Don’t be too serious, be light, be happy, I am just fine!

I believe you are my dearest Lilly Rose but how can I be sure?

You cannot yet; clearing the clouds of your doubts is your task now on until you grasp the joy of a cloudless sky.

 

Six hours after passing the threshold she had a gentle smile on her face.

lili-rose-grave1-copy-web.jpg

 

Published in:Uncategorized ||on mai 12th, 2013 |

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