Thoughts of a Dear Friend

Do you ever have times when you have an unidentifiable feeling of discomfort?   You're just "off" and you have no idea why.   I had that feeling most of last week.  I just happened to have a look at my calendar and realized that January 27th marked the 5 year anniversary of the passing of a very dear friend of mine.   I felt compelled to honour him in some way and did so in a journal spread.  I met Arnold at the library and after getting to know him, he invited me to go canoeing with him.   He called his red canoe "Cricket" and he was out in it as often as he could be exploring, often with a tiny teddy bear for company that he called "Grunt".  It was a delightful day and one of many more that I shared with Arnold.    He was one of those people who just brought sunshine and richness to life.   He loved music, movies, fine wine, nature, good books....the simple pleasures of life....and he shared them freely with friends, family and neighbours.  I gave him a copy of  Kate DiCamillo's "Beacause of Winn-Dixie" and he enjoyed it so much that he spent several evenings reading it aloud to his neighbourhood  children.  He set up a tent in his living room and camped over Christmas and decorated a tree in the woods for the season.   His passing was like a whisper but his life and all he shared lives strongly in my heart and the hearts of many others.    He once told me that when he died, he wanted to be remembered by this poem:

Prophecy

Elinor Wylie

I hall lie hidden in a hut

In the middle of an alder wood

With the back door blind and bolted shut

And the front door locked for good.

 I shall lie folded like a saint

Lapped in a scented linen sheet

On a bedstead striped with bright blue paint

Narrow and cold and neat

The midnight will be glassy black

Behind the panes with wind about

To set his mouth against a crack

And blow the candle out.

Gone from this earth but never forgotten.