Thursday, September 2, 2010

More Tears Than Words

How can it be her fire we’ll see no more,
In colors red and gold ablaze in life?
A bird in song, a trusted hand, adored,
A teacher, singer, friend, and Mother. Wife.
Her fiery passions warmed souls near to match;
Her wisdom never ceasing to amaze.
When questions came, ‘twas she who did dispatch,
With twinkle, smile, and nod to proven ways.
But now must I contend that she is gone;
So hard to reconcile her life with death.
When vibrancy abounds then she lives on,
In those who walked with her and shared her breath.
                For in my ears her voice will e’er return;
                For in my mind her fire will always burn.

In honor of my friend, Mary Kate (1961-2010)


Jenn Casey said...

So sorry to hear of your loss. :(

Lynne said...

Thanks, Jenn. It's a tragic loss for all who knew her. She was responsible for the local homeschool Shakespeare productions (my daughters were in Twelfth Night), a one-time director in our homeschool chorus, and a friend I would ask to literally sing her strong alto voice in my ear during our performances. She taught me and my daughters a lot about choral music and Shakespeare. She was a wise and wonderful woman (with four children) who lost her long battle with skin cancer yesterday.

HaynesBE said...

I hate death. I know it's not rational, but I have yet to comes to terms with the fact that we all have to die.
People can leave some pretty big holes in our hearts and our lives when they die.
The only thing worse, is not to have known them at all.
Love you!

Lynne said...

That is exactly what I've been thinking and feeling: The only thing worse is not having known them at all. Thanks for the love and friendship.

Cheryl said...

Beautiful, Lynne. I can't stop thinking about Christopher at about 2 years old or so, with that gorgeous head of hair, zipping around at Shakespeare rehearsals.

Lynne said...

Me too. Harrison and Victoria were in the same KinderMusic-type class when Mary Kate had Sophia and brought her into class at one week old. I keep thinking about her dearest five. That's why the tears keep coming.