Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical

They say deaths come in 3s.

Last night i was a space cadet and therefore late to work. Then i came home and continued to be frustrated by the expense of travel (this time rail in England). I had anecdotes, a humorous blog post, and various musings. Instead of an average-sized post on all that and then some, though, you get the following.

Last night my dad got called and asked to sub for today. While on the phone he learned that Mrs. Reen, who works in the computer lab, her son (who graduated with me and whom i remember as being something of a jerk) drove his car into a tree less than a block from their house and died. Never have i wanted more to still be in the Norwood graduate loop. Turns out he lived just a few blocks away from one of the girls i’ve known since kindergarten. Explains why he always used to hassle her and another friend of mine who lived in the area. They’ve known each other since kindergarten and he never really grew out of the teasing-them stage. This a guy who’s my age. And to leave your house and see your son’s car, smashed into a tree, with his dead body in it. How much more horrible can you get?

I was debating going to the funeral. I mean, it’s not like we were friends. We went to the same elementary school and were near each other alphabetically, and he teased me sometimes. This is Norwood, and you know everyone’s gonna go the funeral. I’m not sure i can handle a litany of praise for this guy. (I’m having flashes of Speaker for the Dead here.) The funeral’s 11:30 on Tuesday and i’m working 9-5 that day, so decision’s made for me.

It made the front page of the Daily News Transcript. (Main story, additional piece by Chip Jama [whom i remember as one of the most immature people in my grade], and obituary [which my dad noticed doesn’t mention where -- Gillooly -- the wake is].) This shouldn’t have surprised me. It is Norwood after all. It looks like he turned into a decent guy, which makes his death a shame, but i’m still not gonna miss him much. I hear he and Katie Manley (another of my less than favorite people from high school) were still dating. Weird that the obituary lists her as a “dear friend” in the survived-by list in the obituary. Can’t they say “long-time girlfriend”? “Dear friend” makes a nice euphemism for a gay relationship, but i thought straight relationships, even those of teenagers, tended to get legitimated in mainstream papers.

I hadn’t realized he came from such a big family. And one of his older siblings had a baby who died ‘cause of the crib sheets 4 or 5 years ago, so his mom (Dan’s mom) now does work with a company that makes crib sheets that won’t some loose. Michele told me this when i was at the library today, saying it’s so horrible for a family to lose 2 young lives in such a relatively short period of time.

Hmm, no skid marks. My first thought when i heard about the crash was, of course, that he was somewhat inebriated (he was coming back from a party, after all), but one of the students my dad had today said he thought the car hydro-planed (I guess it was raining a lot at the time.).

I wanted to make everyone sit down on the sun-warmed pavement, arranging their bags and bundles round them, and turn to their neighbour to talk of this huge headline hanging over us. Who have you lost to death, who were you glad to see taken, and when do you think death might come for you? The brass band should be playing a triumphant funeral march, and the sun should be making skeleton shadows of our bodies on the gaps of pavement between the groups.
-Hood by Emma Donoghue
For Real
Bob Franke

Death took the husband of a neighbor of mine,
on a highway, with a drunk at the wheel.
She told me "Keep your clean hands off the laundry he left,
and don't tell me you know how I feel."
She had a tape that he'd sent her from a Holiday Inn,
and she never played it much in the day,
But when I heard him say he loved her through the window at night,
I just stayed the hell away.

There's a hole in the middle of the prettiest life,
so the lawyers and the prophets say.
Not your father nor your mother nor your lover's
gonna ever make it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night
to be afraid of the way we feel;
Let's be kind to each other, not forever, but for real.

My father never put his parachute on in the Pacific
back in World War Two;
He said he'd rather go down in familiar flames
than get lost in that endless blue,
And some of that blue got into my eyes,
and we never stopped fighting that war,
Until first understood about endlessness,
and I loved him like never before.


It's lucky that my daughter got her mother's nose,
and just a little of her father's eyes,
And we've got just enough love that when the longing takes me,
well, it takes me by surprise,
And I remember that longing from my highway days,
though I never could give it a name;
It's lucky I discovered in the nick of time
that the woman and the child aren't to blame

For the hole in the middle of a pretty good life,
I only face it 'cause it's here to stay:
Not my father, nor my mother, nor my daughter, nor my lover,
nor the highway made it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night
to be ashamed of the way I feel.
I'll be kind to my loved ones, not forever, but for real.

Some say that God is a lover; some say it's an endless void;
Some say both, and some say She's angry, and some say just annoyed,
But if God felt a hammer in the palm of His hand,
then God knows the way we feel;
And love lasts forever, forever and for real.
Love lasts forever.

© 1983 Telephone Pole Music Publishing Co.

The Beauty of the Rain
Dar Williams

When you know the day is ending all too soon
You're just two umbrellas one late afternoon
You never know what you will say
This is your favorite kind of day
It has no walls, the beauty of the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

And there's nothing wrong but there is something more
And sometimes you wonder what you love her for
She says you've known her deepest fears
'Cause she showed you a box of stained-glass tears
It can't be all, the truth about the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

But when she gave you more to find
You let her think she'd lost her mind
And that's all on you
Feeling helpless if she asked for help
Or scared you'd have to change yourself

And you can't deny this room will keep you warm.
You can look out of your window at the storm
But you watch the phone and hope it rings
You'll take her any way she sings
Or how she calls, the beauty of the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls
How it falls, how it falls, how it falls

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