This is what I wrote on 18/6/21
And reread last week……..
18/6/21
It rains
On this day last year
It did not rain:
It was cold and bright
And allowed us to sit in a circle outside
Around Salv’s decorated coffin:
His body now cold and still
But still on his property
On the very grass he had mown so often
Beside the house
We had bought in 1970
And in which we had grown to know each other.
Our refuge, our dwelling place
Our shelter from the storms of life
And now suddenly ended and over for Salv.
On this bright hard day
Last year
We farewelled you with words
And music….
We had never done this before –
This was not a rehearsal
This was the final day.
We stood
We sat
We spoke
We read
We sang
We burnt your years
And then we hoisted
You upon our shoulders
And made our way to the gate
Eager and ready to bear the load
Of your once vital body —
The longest journey
Carried willingly on our shoulders
Not wanting this last journey to end
But knowing there was this final journey
That had to be made:
The music swelling into the street
Did I hear it?
Or was I concentrating on my steps
Anna behind me,
It was unnerving
It was serious
And yet it was the right thing to do…..
To carry this man to the ends of the earth.
The sadness kept us steady,
Our bodies gladly accepted the task,
And yet I cannot now say
Where my mind was on that day:
One foot in front of the other
One foot at a time,
Not too fast,
We walked with an inbuilt reluctance
As if our feet were fixed in the earth
As if we knew you would not be back this way
Again:
The full measure of this final salute
This final tribute
Rose up from our feet
And weighed with solid measure
And we transferred you
From our shoulders
Into the arms of the waiting grandchildren.
In a gesture grave and loving
As if it was completely natural
These older taller grandchildren
Received the coffin into their waiting arms
And continued the journey
This one last journey
To the waiting car
As if this had been planned since the world began.
How is it we were able to accomplish all this?
It was surely a mystery
Which had its own righteous rhythm,
Is it that we – in spite of ourselves –
Recognize the seriousness of death
And its heavy heartbreak of sadness
There is no coming back –
This is the moment,
And looking back over the previous 86 days
We each had faced a moment
When we knew this was a final journey,
And we were close by
For all the final moments
Although we did not know them then
The final meal
The final shave
The final song
The final smile
And penultimately
The final breath
And then the utter stillness
Of a body no longer needed
Of a heartbeat slowed and stopped
Of eyes closed,
Mouth open
Feet and hands growing cold.
We had each passed our final moments
With him and now carrying him
Was mere ceremony:
It was what we owed him:
He who had carried us all
On our many journeys
Shouldered now by us
As we carried him reverently
To the gate: where his grandchildren -like angels-
Stood ready to carry him to his own car.
From feet and shoulders
To arms outstretched from the next generation
We tearfully farewell this one dear man
Whose life gave us value and joy.
Never would the gate open again
To such a spectacle
As on that one bright winter day: 18/6/20
Remembering Salv Caleo 