From a response to a comment left on this blog with some additions and edits for clarity, namely my own.
We are now in NC – arriving this morning we were greeted by my extended family as though we were the most dearly loved people of all earth. These are some of the best people I have ever known as they have always been like this toward my wife, son and I.
Lunch, attempt at a nap and dinner with dessert and some memories shared. A beautiful occasion.
It had not occurred to me when I was asked to read the poem and the paragraph from the letter that I would be the only one to read outside of the person giving the eulogy. Out of the myriad of people that my Aunt knew and were ever so close to apparently it was me that she felt a true bond outside her daughters and husband.
I learned today that she kept my book beside her bed where she spent the last eight months of her life and my letters adjacent – often rereading them with utter joy. The weight of the honor I feel and indebtedness to her and her family is immense without being burdensome. We never know how much we truly mean to someone in this life and I am now so touched to know how my letters, phone calls and poetry had lifted her – her daughters even went so far as to say that the letters were a reason she kept going. I only wish she had read the one I was writing when she passed.
though I can no longer dance, I still think every day of the twostep.
That letter along with three more I delivered today among the pile of read/received letters. The total aspect of loss hit me in that moment. If I could ever live so fully and beautifully as she – even half that I would perish a loved and good man.
Today I read my public testament to her – my words of embrace to her loved remaining here without her deepest constant grace. The most beautiful of words can never offer what she simply did in her warmth and friendship.
Forever I will remember her, always as my beloved friend and her love’s magnanimity.
for your name is scrawled across my heart, for these memories tethered there for all time.
the platitudes of willful resemblance 