Archive for 29 december 2007


Vandaag is de lawaje van Leo. In het Nederlands dus z,n begravenis. En vandaag zal het leven voorzichtig weer verder gaan voor zijn dochter, zoon en tweede vrouw. Woorden  kunnen niet vatten wat ze op het moment voelen van het definitieve afscheid. Muziek en een gedicht is het enige passende voor dit moment.

The five stages of grieve

The night I lost you
someone pointed me towards
the Five Stages of Grief.
Go that way, they said,
it’s easy, like learning to climb
stairs after amputation.
And so I climbed.
Denial was first.
I sat down at breakfast
carefully setting the table
for two. I passed you the toast
you sat there. I passed
you the paperyou hid
behind it.
Anger seemed more familiar.
I burned the toast, snatched
the paper and read the headlines myself.
But they mentioned your departure
and so I moved on to
Bargaining. What could I exchange
for you? The silence
after storms? My typing fingers?
Before I could decide, Depression
came puffing up, a poor relation
its suitcase tied together
with string. In the suitcase
were bandages for the eyes
and bottles of sleep. I slid
all the way down the stairs
feeling nothing.
And all the time Hope
flashed on and off
in defective neon.
Hope was a signpost pointing
straight in the air.
Hope was my uncle’s middle name,
he died of it.
After a year I am still climbing,
though my fee slip
on your stone face.
The treeline
has long since disappeared;
green is a color
I have forgotten.
But now I see what I am climbing
towards: Acceptance
written in capital letters,
a special headline:
Its name is in lights.
I struggle on,
waiving and shouting.
Below, my whole life spreads its surf,
all the landscape I’ve ever known
of dreamed of. Below
a fish jumps: the pulse
in your neck.
Acceptance. I finally
reach it.
But something is wrong.
Grief is a circular staircase.
I have lost you.

Het gedicht is gemaakt door Linda Pastan en de afbeelding door Dawn Nakashima en het heet: Rice cakes. De Muziek is van Max Bruch, het heet Kol Nidrei.


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