Sunday, July 26, 2009

For a Dancer (Jackson Browne)

Today is the one week anniversary of my mom's passing - I still don't feel much like "talking"... but I will soon enough, and appreciate the patience and understanding of my friends as I navigate the noisy quiet... :-)

In the meantime, you can read mom's obituary and eulogy on her CaringBridge site - I know she would have been proud of us...

A woman drives to the video store
to rent a movie. It is Saturday night,
she is thinking of nothing in particular,
perhaps of how later she will pop popcorn
or hold hands with her husband and pretend
they are still in high school. On the way home
a plane drops from the sky, the wing shearing
her roof of her car, killing her instantly.
Here is a death, it could happen to any of us.
Her husband will struggle the rest of his days
to give shape to an event that does not mean
to be understood. Since memory cannot operate
without plot, he chooses the romantic — how young
she was, her lovely waist, or the ironic — if only
she had lost her keys, stopped for pizza.

At the precise moment the plane spiraled
out of control, he was lathering shampoo
into his daughter's hair, blond and fine
as cornsilk, in love with his life, his
daughter, the earth (for "cornsilk" is how
he thought of her hair), in love with the miracle
of bubbles, how they rise in a slow dance,
swell and shimmer in the steamy air, then
dissolve as though they never were.

QUOTE: "The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive - perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine." ~ Mignon McLaughlin


  1. [hugs] also, "For a Dancer" is a fabulous song.

  2. Hey, Amy ~

    Please keep the hugs coming - "and in the end there is one dance you'll do alone"...