And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.― Maya Angelou (from When Great Trees Fall)
It’s very cold tonight, and there’s ice on the roads, patches of snow. It’s not a night for motorbikes. But promises make traditions, and traditions take us out on the road even when it’s not a good night. But in the car, this time. It’s 19 years now, since my beloved friend Sarah died in the Marie Curie hospice. I promised never to forget her, and it’s the easiest promise I ever made. Each year, more memories surface, I revisit and remember the past – and she joins me in the present, I imagine what she’d think of my life, what we might have done together. As Maya Angelou said, I can be, and be better, because she existed.
So I do the same things I did that night. I ride, or drive, from the hospice past the flat she used to live in. I return home to a Christmas tree that’s still on. I hug Veronica, and talk about Sarah. We turn the tree off for the year. I sit down and write about her. I pour a glass of whisky. I exist. I am, and am better, because she existed.
For those that didn’t know her, this is what I wrote after she died: https://www.skirnir.com/seolta/sarah/
All my posts about Sarah are saved here now: https://www.skirnir.com/seolta/