#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15

#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

The original poem i wrote just after Bill died and before the funeral, is in the blog linked above. It was recited by my Jesuit priest friend John Veltri who encouraged this exposure (not of my premeditated thoughts) while my close friend Bruce Gremo played classical guitar. Many had attended and were sitting on the floor, standing to any corner left inside the room. Bill had a lot of friends, he was just thirty when he died of cancer in 1976, May 15. He used to joke with our sister Carolyn Roche that life begins at 40 and he let go of his pain that night on her 40th birthday. She is 82 today. Bill left behind a son Chris Smith whom he loved very much and often talked of him privately with me. Bill was my best friend, my big brother, three years older than myself with my brother Allyn in between whom also is extremely close. Lindsay Stewart ink sketched this picture from a photograph superbly and i thank him for that. The family had so few photographs of Bill. I was just beginning my life in photography that year therefore i have no images of Bill at all. I miss Bill often and i suppose i will till i’m also dispersed into the great mystery. If we’re lucky we have a special person in our lives to help us up when life gets us down; we did that for each other, and nobody has quite replaced him in that way since. His life in death has taught me many lessons. It never ends…….not yet! …….. remembering you today and sharing for the ones that might care….happy birthday Carolyn.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

 

IN MEMORIAM

As he lies there
slowly turning to ashes
And time, past and future
all hurled into one
pointing our lives
to this tormenting moment
This shock of death
piercing its way
to our very souls
leaving – no escape
only tears dripping from eyes
hoping our pale cheeks
can absorb and calm the pain
This passing
completely unknown – to all here
right out of our hands
it has its say
without so much as a whisper
from our dampened lips
Tho, the fact
black as coal
still – leaves us uneasy
The glass of life
smashed
crumbled to bits
and remaining
only fragments to cherish
to linger indefinitely

Silently, the memories will come
and they will come
and come easy
for this man was a good man
a good, good man
like the rustling of the leaves
of some forgotten autumn night
and, lonesome of this world
it’s then, he’ll reappear
as the true friend he is.
the very image of his honest eyes
will say more
than a million written words
and to those who knew him
your memories will ring true
with the lessons
he has given
to his dying breath.

the pain we share
to see his vacant presence
there, in that form once his
can’t compare
to the suffering
in his long – last days
his eyes, truly in agony
his body, tormented to the marrow
now – in rest
slowly turning back
to whence it came

I pressed him, gently
with my hands
as his last breath
eased from his lips
and faded, slowly
to the heavens
and i felt deep, within my heart
the miracle of love
It would be Bills wish
to turn our pain – now
and forever
to the warm glowing love
let it be done

And may God
through brothers like Bill
make pure – all our souls.

GOD BLESS YOU BILL

your kid brother, pat

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