Luminous Landscape Forum

Site & Board Matters => About This Site => Topic started by: dseelig on December 29, 2008, 10:48:22 pm

Title: A Thanks
Post by: dseelig on December 29, 2008, 10:48:22 pm
I have had a year from hell my wife passed away at too young an age. This site the people on it have been a help to me in this very lonely time.  I want to give my thanks to everyone from Michael on down for the time and energy people put into these forums.
Title: A Thanks
Post by: wolfnowl on December 30, 2008, 01:35:28 am
Quote from: dseelig
I have had a year from hell my wife passed away at too young an age. This site the people on it have been a help to me in this very lonely time.  I want to give my thanks to everyone from Michael on down for the time and energy people put into these forums.

Thanks for sharing that.  I can't imagine living without Marcia...

Mike.

P.S.
This is one of my favourite poems on the subject:


Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.



"Throughout the years, this poem has appeared in many places and in many forms. The original was written in 1942 by Baltimorean Mary Frye on the back of a brown paper bag. Frye wrote the poem for a friend whose mother had died in Germany; the daughter had been unable to attend the funeral because of World War II."
Title: A Thanks
Post by: Rob C on January 02, 2009, 05:42:14 am
Quote from: dseelig
I have had a year from hell my wife passed away at too young an age. This site the people on it have been a help to me in this very lonely time.  I want to give my thanks to everyone from Michael on down for the time and energy people put into these forums.


I was touched to read your post.

I understand only too well exactly what you are going through. My own wife died on the 6th of November after a hard fight with the Big C. We met at school when she was fifteen and I was seventeen. From then we were together and saw one another every day. After we married she brought up the two kids that came along and then, as women sometimes do when the kids no longer are so needy, she decided that she wanted to know whether she could still cut it in the working world. She went back to being a chemist in a lab and then, once she knew she still had it, she decided that there was a better life to be had at home, and she returned to it.

After a while she became a partner in my photography business and from then on in we went all around the world doing this and that. Now, retired, we both had time to enjoy the fruits of the labour, which we did for quite a long while. But, as with all good things, there is always that bloody event that is going to come along and end it. Which it did a few weeks ago.

So yes, time does become something very different. I have tried to reason the thing through and all I can conclude is that there is no reason, only that there are events that happen over which we have zero control.

I can´t offer advice - your loss was previous to mine - and I don´t really believe that anyone else can help one. I guess it all boils down to how much love has been lost. That is the measure of the grief and brother, I wouldn´t wish it on anybody.

Perhaps the only way through this shared period of hell is by burying the mind in work. If you are still working for your living then that is probably easier to do; when you are retired, it takes a lot of push to even get up out of bed.

Perhaps this is a suitable moment to state how important, how hugely important is the contribution to life of a good woman.

Rob C
Title: A Thanks
Post by: Rob C on January 02, 2009, 05:45:38 am
Quote from: wolfnowl
Thanks for sharing that.  I can't imagine living without Marcia...

Mike.

P.S.
This is one of my favourite poems on the subject:


Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.



"Throughout the years, this poem has appeared in many places and in many forms. The original was written in 1942 by Baltimorean Mary Frye on the back of a brown paper bag. Frye wrote the poem for a friend whose mother had died in Germany; the daughter had been unable to attend the funeral because of World War II."


Thanks for posting that; it is indeed lovely and probably more rewarding than any of the mush that you find on sympathy cards.

Rob C
Title: A Thanks
Post by: BernardLanguillier on January 02, 2009, 06:35:43 am
My most sincere condoleances to the two of you.

Although I am fortunate enough not to have experienced what you have just gone though, I have spent a bit of time thinking about the loss of loved ones these past few years for various reasons.

Although I am not religious myself, I have found that the sanctuaries built by man to celebrate their gods are often tributes to immortality in that they have been traveling through time and help us feel that those who are gone remain alive through the memories they have left.

By chance, I visited such a place today and thought that I would share a photograph with you (it is a Shinto shrine in Tokyo). I hope that you won't mind.

(http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3124/3159532942_4205141413_o.jpg)

Kind regards,
Bernard
Title: A Thanks
Post by: jjj on January 02, 2009, 04:47:51 pm
Quote from: wolfnowl
This is one of my favourite poems on the subject:


Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
That is a very good poem about such a very difficult part of life.

My stepdad died a couple of years back and in the following year my mum, sister and girlfriend all spent time in hospital with potentially lethal conditions, so I can empathize a little with the difficulties Rob + dseelig are going through. My condolonces to both of you.
Title: A Thanks
Post by: dseelig on January 03, 2009, 06:48:54 pm
Mike  
What a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing. I am not retired probably never will. I am a working photographer. www.davidseelig.com
My work has always been what has saved me. I was orphaned at 16 growing up in NYC' s east village in the early 70's. Photography saved me from drugs many of my early friends ended up with a needle in their arm. Rob my mom died of cancer at 39 and my agent- Virginia Lohle for my music photography died of cancer at 49 2 years ago, a horrible, horrible way to go. I feel for you. Thanks for all again David
Title: A Thanks
Post by: Rob C on January 10, 2009, 10:48:15 am
Quote from: dseelig
Mike  
What a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing. I am not retired probably never will. I am a working photographer. www.davidseelig.com
My work has always been what has saved me. I was orphaned at 16 growing up in NYC' s east village in the early 70's. Photography saved me from drugs many of my early friends ended up with a needle in their arm. Rob my mom died of cancer at 39 and my agent- Virginia Lohle for my music photography died of cancer at 49 2 years ago, a horrible, horrible way to go. I feel for you. Thanks for all again David



First of all, I apologise for not being in touch sooner but the reason was not lack of will but that my monitor was slowly passing away and I could only get what looked like a flattened pyramid in the lower half of the screen. This got worse, and eventually the new monitor became available and here I am, back in cyberspace again.

So thanks again to those who expressed their sympathy - there is no doubt that the internet does provide some degree of solace and outside interest, at least enough to kill off some of the long, empty periods of screaming domestic silence that would otherwise drive one to distraction or worse.

On the topic of cancer - since my wife was diagnosed, the subject was very much more opened up to us and we discovered just how many people have been affected by the thing - hardly a family exists that does not have someone touched by it. For her, it started with breast cancer which did not return. She died of another type altogether, so for anyone whose life is messed up with breast cancer, it is not essentially the end of the line; people we know, some have passed fifteen years with no return of the thing. For what it´s worth, she was on Arimidex for the breast cancer and it did seem to work.

So again, thanks for the sympathy and I hope you make it through this hellish time, David.

Rob C
Title: A Thanks
Post by: DarkPenguin on January 11, 2009, 11:48:43 pm
Both of you have my deepest sympathies.
Title: A Thanks
Post by: Rob C on January 12, 2009, 04:35:14 am
Quote from: DarkPenguin
Both of you have my deepest sympathies.

Thanks, Mr P, people do turn out to be much kinder than might sometimes be imagined.

Even on a local level, I have been at the receiving end of good vibes from the most unexpected quarters, some of which have made me realise that I had some folks figured out quite wrongly. Pity it took this in order to find it out.

Ciao - Rob C