For Patti Soderberg

Patti,

You and I were so different. You skied; I quilted. I taught literature; You taught science. You were a reserved Swede; I'm an Irish storyteller. I love big words; You loved big dogs. You were tall and thin; I'm short and yeah, not so thin.

But superficial differences are nothing compared to what we had in common--a love for tough questions and new ideas, natural beauty and architectural history, late-night mischief and earnest community service, Shakespearean comedy and high school boys' humor, laughing with friends and learning from students. We shared a commitment to trusting people -- even those who might betray us. For believing in students -- even those who others saw as troublemakers. And for taking risks -- even for impossible dreams.

I miss you so very much. My brain does not want to accept that you will never again come striding into my house wearing a wide smile, a Nordic sweater, and dark pants covered with dog hair. ;-)

I am trying to find a cure for this pounding headache of loss. I have to believe that the chain of feelings triggered by this shock will one day circle back to the human connection that can ease this pain. I wrote this poem a while ago to capture that cycle of emotion--I don't normally write poetry, so this was an experiment. You would want me to take a risk, so I will do so and share it with you here:

Death sets off an explosion in my heart.
Amid the rubble,
Disbelieving,
Deafened by the blast,
I feel the pain slice through me
Like falling shards
Of broken glass.

Grief shrinks my heart and hardens it to stone.
Heavy, hard and cold,
Unmoving,
Anchored by its weight,
I lie still, blanketed by loss,
Like slate or granite
Overgrown with moss.

Hope opens up a window in my heart.
In unexpected moments,
Reading,
Or fumbling with my keys,
I smile and feel my spirits rise
Like sheer white curtains
Lifted by the breeze.

Love tends a constant flame deep in my heart.
Soothed by its warmth,
But missing you,
Expected to go on,
I hold you close, reach out for help,
And find the strength
To walk through fire.


This past weekend, your friends all tried to reach out and give each other strength. It may be too soon for us to walk through fire. We are still sad and angry and lonesome for you. But I know you would want us to lift our hearts and pass the feelings we had for you on to others in our lives, to focus on doing passionate, important work and having fun in your honor. So when I feel the prickly sting of tears, I call to mind these lines from Kahlil Gibran:

"When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

Thank you, Patti for your friendship and for the inspiring example of your courage. I am delighted to have had you in my life.