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)
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
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!
Susie sailing around Cape Horn
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.
Susie crossing the Sahara desert
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,
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.
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 !
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
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.”
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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
I love you both.
Mon cher Marc,
je sais bien que tu connais et aimes ce poème.
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.
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.
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)
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
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..
My heart is with you both
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.
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.
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.
Ellen (and John)
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
j’éspère te soulager un peu à travers les mots d’un grand consolateur…
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…
- Etienne de LA BOETIE (1530-1563)
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.
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.
“���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,
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.
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:
Cushing Samp and Susie
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.
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:
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.
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
A piece of poetry and some images that I would have sent to Sooz from Parabola today.
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.
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.
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.
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.