Stopping

I’ve been listening to Amanda Palmer’s music on and off since finishing her memoir. “Lost” is a particular favorite:

no one’s ever lost forever
when they die they go away
but they will visit
you occasionally
do not be afraid
no one’s ever lost forever
they are caught
inside your heart
if you garden them
and water them
they make you what you are

It rings true to me that the people who have died will always be with you, in your thoughts and memories, that if you nurture your memory of them they, and the loss of them, help shape you. The ones we love the most linger the deepest and their loss changes us.

Last year I lost one of my closest friends. His memory visits me often. I wish I could rewrite our last conversation, our last words, but I will always remember him and the shape I carved for him in my life.

It seems appropriate that today’s First Sentence should be one I envy a little – the recognition of the end. It’s from 1/30/2013:

They tell me to “just be with her,” as if it’s easy. It’s not. She’s dying. I don’t know what to say. When I sit here, listening to the steady EKG and the consistent breathing, I know they will both stop soon and I feel like part of me is stopping too.