Ann Emerson's Death

Ann Emerson was a friend, a poet I admired, a member of my Buddhist support group for seriously ill people. Last Saturday morning, she passed away. She had been ill for all of the time that I knew her, about 6 years.

 The leader of our support group, Mick Bennett, wrote the following in a message to members:

 "Ann's life was a model of compassion in action. Extended volunteer work at the Peninsula Humane Society, working beside Mother Teresa in Calcutta, India, and adopting numerous sightless kittens were only a few of the channels through which she expressed her compassion. In addition, and as you are all aware, Ann was a recognized poet, having just last month seen four of her works published in the American Poetry Review, one of America's premier poetry publications.

 Ann was an original member of our group when it began in 2006, and we will recognize her during the course of the group's regular Wednesday afternoon meeting this coming Wednesday: An empty chair will stand in our circle containing a photograph(s) of Ann, and those who wish will be invited to share feelings they may have toward Ann, reflections on what Ann meant to them, and the like. Then, on a week-end afternoon at IMC sometime in March, Gil (Fronsdal) will lead a ceremony celebrating Ann's life for the wider IMC community. The exact date and time will be announced soon.

 At the end, Ann's body was covered with bruises and abrasions where needles and other probes had punctured her skin endlessly for one purpose or another. But underneath the distress of those surface wounds, some of which resulted in long periods of intense pain, Ann remained the same person we all knew, loved, and greatly respected—ongoing bright and peaceful demeanor, immense concern for the welfare of people and other beings around her, brilliance in poetic expression, devotion to Metta, her last cat, and that remarkably compassionate, uplifting spirit that she exuded constantly. May the rest of your journey be peaceful, Ann.

 May we all become more available to the peace available to us,"

 I loved Ann and I will miss her but somehow I feel that she is still somewhere close by. Travel lightly, Ann. We hold you close, within the ebb and flow of each sacred breath.




 
Monolation from Jess Dunlap on Vimeo.