Ceremony for Ann

   I chickened out of going at the last moment.  It felt overwhelming to think of Ann and all the others who've gone ahead:

     Robert (ALS) - who spoke through a box
     Hilda- who made me feel so welcomed into the group, who asked for so little but gave so much
     Mary Kate - who was so tired of waiting
     Parvathy - SO young
     Ernie - who loved surfing as I love skiing
     Deborah - who was scared, then angry, then ready
     Mary - who was SO prepared
     Dick- who in his 80s was teaching Critical Thinking
     Phyllis (Rob's wife) - who fought all the way
     now Ann - our beloved Ann- our poet, here, not here, yet always trying to give.

Mick read a poem Ann had written for the group.

"Ceremony"

 

There are more things in this world

than tears: Wednesday 2010.

we stand before flowers and candles,

caring for those who have passed

before. I feel a trifle dizzy

saying each name-- Robert and Hilda,

Mary, Parvarthy , MaryKate, Deborah, .Ernie, Dick

(and now Phyllis and Ann)

I am sad remembering the rest

of us are ill, swept up

in that wave of storm.

There are few remaining

in the small rubber boat--

yellow slickers buttoned up to our chins--

yet we remain in good spirits.

Beyond the clouds stars

are shining, our six friends.

This is a good day

to be content, they say:

the difference between

crying and laughter isn't much.

Wednesday afternoon: soon

we'll be on our way, stopping

for groceries on the way home.

Supper by 7:00, it will be low tide.

The waves gentle again,

the stars breathing fresh air.

It is good to be alive.  But I can't help feeling that all who started with me will be gone by the time I go.

Still, I feel that Ann is smiling from somewhere not so far away.  In the meantime, I'll keep my yellow slicker

buttoned up to my chin.