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Thursday, September 30, 2004

My friend, Kathy, died today, and I don’t know how to mourn.
She lived a long enough life,
but I wish she’d lived a bit longer.
I guess one always does.

I heard a symphony on the radio, two days ago,
that I thought she’d much enjoy.
She couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk, couldn’t smile.
Never had.
But she knew how to enjoy music.
It soothed her.

Her eyes were wise with understanding.
Her heart yearning to be touched.
Her body limiting.

Now she lives in a place where her body could not go.
No taut muscles hold her back
Her voice makes music.
Her soul runs free.
Her thoughts are heard.

And I mourn?
I bet she looked forward to this day.
She was always capable of more than her body would let on.

But I hurt. I can’t put words to why, but I hurt.
I wish I’d done more for her here, made her life more full.
Found a way to help her smile, connect more with her soul.
I wonder if I’ll recognize her
When we again meet.
I hope she’ll have a smile for me.
I bet it’s beautiful.

Comments:
I don't know her... but this is a fitting remembrance. I wish I was in NC to give you a big hug right now, but I guess you'll have to wait on that until the end of the month. Hang in there sis! I'll be praying for you!

--Neal
 
I remember Kathy well. You brought her to a concert on campus at the U of M where she heard the School of Music orchestra. You were feeding her as she listened.

She came to your wedding all dressed up and looking great, and we saw her picture in your collection.

I am sorry too.

Thank you, Laura, for investing in her and those that lived with her. The world is a better place for your kindness.
 
Laura, One of the things I love about you is how you see the most beautiful things in people! Many people miss them.
Love,
Dorothy
 
Crystal posted about Kathy's death and I was wondering how you were doing when I heard.

hugs
 
You "live with" a person long enough and, no matter how hard it is for them to communicate, you find a way to understand, as best you can. Or you become numb. I was not willing to have a meaningless job, so I learned to listen.
 
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