Your death came suddenly and
now the dark earth covers you.
But I won’t sing hymns, so I’ll dwell
on the life lived, the imperfections,
the great wisdom and the sudden
ceasing of breath, the heart stopped short,
the surgeon pumping it by hand, a life no longer
living, a heart no longer beating, an electrical pulse
no longer pulsing.

You believed in taking responsibility for
everything you do in this life, in giving
back to the community, in keeping secrets
because you never know what danger
betraying a secret could lead to.

You understood loss and regret as well as anyone,
And grieved for others,
not just yourself, for if one person is in trouble,
then everyone is in trouble.

You ate ripe mangos during all seasons, Thai curries
and wondrous soups created from leftovers.

You postponed worrying until you had to worry – no mean feat.

And we loved you.

You told dirty jokes about a six-inch pianist and
a filthy-mouthed parrot who couldn’t help but tell the truth,
and we laughed our asses off.
You informed me one winter that I looked like a pimp in a
coat I’d just bought for a hundred bucks.
And when I saw that my room had been turned
into a guest room since I’d been away at college,
you said, “Did you expect I would turn it
into a shrine?”

Though most people can’t remember
what they did yesterday, you told people
exactly what they wore
at so-and-so’s wedding 30 years ago.

And we loved you.

As a child, you started up with adults,
answered their silly questions
and left them flabbergasted with your
outrageous intelligence and beauty.

Much later in life, you would size someone up –
peer into their character – within minutes
of meeting them.

You were a tough taskmaster, a ruthless critic. But
You were fair.

And we loved you.

Only the weight, the painful, quick pounds,
held you back from
doing more with your life.

Three years have passed
And it hurts to know
You can’t see the children grow.

You missed the week Hannah lost two teeth
and you won’t hear her marvelous voice in the latest Disney film.
You missed Josh analyze the fierce drops and
twists on all the many
roller coasters he’s ridden.
And you would surely appreciate Zack’s cryptic, hilarious asides,
the mind of a brilliant teenager.

There are so many questions that need answering,
answers that need further clarification.
There are stories that need telling,
jokes that need resurrecting,
soups that need cooking
from leftover Szechuan beef and pork.
You said you suspected that death ended everything.
Game over. But maybe there’s an ancestral realm
with ripe mangos and pungent lemongrass and boiling hot coffee,
and a good class with a funny professor
that prepares you for the next stage.

There’ll be a test for sure, and you’ll
score off the charts as you always do.

And don’t forget we loved you.

Jory Farr
Currently living in Ohio