It is good to hear from all of you by luck, or circumstance, or perhaps a kind of providence - each one of you now a particular shade of light and quality of colour.  Thank you for writing. My condolences to you, Nouce, after so many, many years of caring. I hope your new home offers you some warmth and rest.

Sarah's suffering and degradations over the last twenty years and especially of late were heart breaking to witness, and often impossible to comfort or ease.  She did not deserve such misery. Not that anyone does. Her suffering and losses up to and including her dying days have left me staggered and disorented with grief and roiled by a troubling anger, and sense of injustice.  For her, it was a constant, hard, cold rain, a relentless and cruel eroding away of dignity, purpose, meaning, and joy. It took everything - scoured away everything from her until there was nothing left for her body or spirit to give, and she died.

In the wake of her death, I am undone, exhausted and despondent. The days are hollow. Lately, I feel like I have slipped beneath the earth. I think this is the way of things.  It seems I need to rest here, underground, away from the land of the living.  I am close to Sarah here.  There is a kind of privacy, a stillness I need here - a slowing down and settling into common silence. We remain a couple here.  We lie down together. Night within night. Silence within silence - and renegotiate our lives. These things have a rhythm of their own I am told by those who have gone before. It is just as well. I am not in the mood to rush though others might grow impatient. 

There is a need for tenderness this day and all days.  There is a need for those of us who have lived long days to offer such tenderness to others in need of care.  There is a need for friendships such as ours. All else seems like dross to me. All else meets with my indifference. The heart of the universe flows though our hearts, if it flows at all. Mountains move slowly. I am too tired to rush anymore.

-with much affection

Jim

Jim

Dear Jimmie,

I am struck by the image of resting beneath the land of the living. May the humus, of which our humanity comes, grow deeper into you and Sarah.

Love, Nouce