Posts tagged ‘Death’

An Open Letter to the Dead ~ Maura Cassiana Desouza

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2012

Maura, there were yellow flowers everywhere. There were all types of them too. I could not name them. I wish I knew all the names of the flowers. And all the names of the trees. And all the names of the constellations. And all the words the Eskimos use for snow.

But then there is the story I heard recently of a famous monk who sat in a garden with another monk. They sat in silence for what seemed liked forever and finally one laughed and said, “They call that a tree.” Then they both laughed.

Yellow reminds me of you. And flowers remind me of you. But these are just words. Concepts to help us fill the void of some existential emptiness that makes us feel as if we’re losing ourself if we don’t have the labels.

"Sheena LaShay"

A yellow flower at the Dervish Center

I don’t need to see a “flower” or “yellow” to see you. I can feel you in everything if I call it to mind.  The memory of you lives on in everyone who calls you to mind.

It has been three years since your last metamorphosis. I wonder what names they call you now. I am sure they are all beautiful.

MAURA CASSIANA DESOUZA

June 23 1986 to May 19 2009

Happy Birthday Tinuola Olateju

Friday, May 4th, 2012

On February 15, 2012, Tinuola Olateju would have turned 17 years old.

I wonder where do the lost children go?

Who holds them and assures them at night?

Where do they find their hope?

Who sings their lullaby?

Where do the lost children go?

 

 

 

Tinuola Olateju

February 15, 1995 – May 29, 2010

Facebook Group: In Loving Memory of Tinuola Olateju

Facebook Group: R.I.P Tinu

 

Jim Young ~ I Remembered You First

Friday, April 13th, 2012

It would be the fall of 2001 when I met Jim in person for the first and last time. He had made it a ritual to join our Arena Theater workout retreats even after he had retired in 1995. (Actually I don’t know if it was a ritural or a special treat for the theater students that year.) I had no clue that his arrival in 2001 would be the last one he’d attend. I had heard rumors about him. I had even seen a video of him talking about Arena Theater. Mark took us to the old arena theater that was contained in some storage closet in the basement of fisher dorm where prayers lived on the walls by those before us. I was told that Jim was given a list of our names before the retreat so that he could pray for each and every one of us during his daily walks. I was told that he would take the time to remember each and every one of our names.

During our retreat when I had a moment alone with Jim, I remembered the first thing he ever said to me. “Sheena. I remembered you first. We are both always Young.” Perhaps it was a metaphor for life or spirit or who knows what but he also meant it quite literally.

Sheena L. Young | Jim Young

I felt connected to him. I felt that even if I wasn’t quite sure of my place in the world, someone was holding me in their prayers during their walks and they called me by name when speaking to God.

I am sure there are other moments of Jim in my memories tucked away neatly with all the beauty and discovery I experienced at Arena Theater. There is the message he so passionately gave us in that small chapel room that brought him to tears. There were his kind words, his smile and his rueful playfulness. There was/is so much. But my favorite has always been that first moment when Jim remembered me first.

Jim Young, the pioneer and founding leader of Arena Theater passed away yesterday or the day before. He touched so many lives, including mine during that beautiful day in 2001 at St. Procopius for our annual retreat.

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