Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Roger Gary Ditto 01-04-67 to 10-19-07







The collage he made of his visit to my garden, at a diner in New York, with his sister Patti on my garden swing, and by himself...


Dear Roger,

Its been almost a month since I posted this. I thought I would hurt less by now, but is not the case. Grief is like a piece of glass stuck in my heart, and only tears help it to break away. How could someone I loved so much be gone?

Do you see us? Do you hear us? Did you really send a message?

I never got to say good bye. Did you know how much I loved you?

You saved my life and lost yours.

Things he told me:


Now...wipe away those tears. Sit up straight. Take a deep breath, and repeat after me....
"I am worthy. I am good. I love, therefor I am loved."
Now...believe it. As obnixious as it may sound, have you ever known me to be truly wrong? Odds are, I'm not this time either. :-) Have patience with yourself, the gods know, you have more than enough with everyone else. Be good, and feel free to 'rant' whenever, and as often as you like. Talk, and see, ya soon."
"Hell, I'd of loved to have just buried myself deep within the recesses of academia years ago...but NO, I had to go and look outside. Darlin, life hurts...it's dirty, rarely predictable, and filled with a shit load of pain. In a nut shell, life sucks.But it does have it's good points. The wisdom in a babies smile. The strength of a childs love. The endurance of a parents heart. The grace of a truth learned. The power of understanding.Unfortunately, to get the 'good' you have to endure the 'bad.'"
"Very sorry to hear about the bunny. Hope you didn't fret too much over telling the boys. I'm sure Danny will be fine. While he won't have the ball of hair around to play with for now, he should be 'wise' enough to understand that dead doesn't mean gone. Merely changed. Don't be too surprised when after the tears dry, and the pain of loss eases, that Danny finds a new four-legged friend. Hum...suppose he could go the feathered route, but he feels too earthy, so I would bet his next companion is something that lives 'with' the earth. If you're lucky, it won't be a skunk. :-)
"The good news is, it will only hurt as long as you allow it to. Once you truly acknowledge and accept, you will be freed from the past. It can't get 'too bad and too deep', you passed that point months ago."
"You can't turn off the past any more, only dim it a bit, because you are at a crossroads in your life. A moment of choice. The choices you make now will effect you significantly over the next 6 months, but the ripples will be felt throughout the rest of your life. Good or bad, right or wrong...these are insignificant aspects at the moment, mere labels plastered upon a mote of existence. So, where do you wish to go? "
"Good God, Darlin', you've always been highstrung but your not an idiot... quit being a bigger queen than I am."


_______________________________________________________________________


The poem he wrote for Jim and I, with an intro:

This one I wrote for a very special person, DeAnna. When I'd finally became reaquanited with her, and her family, again this passed August, I felt the muse speak, but since I was on vacation at the time, allowed it to sleep until I returned home. Fortuantely a phone call from De two weeks later reminded me I still hadn't put the words to 'paper', so I immediately rectified that. De, this is for you...may you soon come to see in yourself what I, and others, see quite easy within you. Love ya.

Our Season

Summer breezes whispering through the leaves,
make eternal promies captured in our dreams.
Hope and charity, sown for the soul to reap.
Vows shared that the heart yearns to keep.
Perhaps tomorrow will answer, rising anew.
For now we abide, awaiting, that which is due.

Winter shadows lengthen, drawing clsoe to night.
Reflected in crystalline palaces, a land blinding white.
Searching for questions I find my loneliness to ask,
"For what purpose, what need, brought me to task?"
Drowning in though it's only by chance I see.
It's not sorrow, but wisdom, budding in me.

Spring explodes upon the scene, chaotic colors live.
How can you not understand the passion we give?
Entwined within our world, starts passing us by,
we dare to enter the places only the angels would fly.
Towards Heavens reaching, gaining celestial grace.
Borne of love, realities truth we're able to face.

Summe draws forth that which we've hidden within.
Bared to the light, we transform our glory from sin.
There's a stirring upon the river which man calls time,
wrapped in a reason, given voice by a simple rhyme.
Floindering for the words, we pause, and understand.
Nothing defeats our destiny, as we go, hand in hand.

Seasons always turn, each flowing to the next, true.
But none are so complete, as those I share with you.
Fate woven, our paths may not always be clear,
uncertain of footing, we cling, facing our fear.
On promise, unvoiced, sings as a morning dove.
Together we shall go forward, bound in our love.

______________________________________________________________________

Dear Roger,

I didn't find out until the 9th of November. Patti left to pack up your apartment and take care of your body the day after you died, and asked Kurt to tell me. She came home to find that he hadn't.

On the one hand, it worked out. You died the day before Aaron turned 13, and I don't think I could have borne the news and still giving him his party. Also, Jim got the news from Patti, and was able to gently convey it to me. He has been everything you always knew he was-- kind, loving, and present. The boys are sad, but mostly that mom is hurting. Danny decided that blue was a calming color, and made blue dye out of pansies that he squeezed, and made me pictures.

On the other hand, I was so hurt that you didn't return my emails. I sent many, not knowing you were gone. Eventually I think my spirit knew what my mind could not accept, you were gone. No way you ever would have blown me off like that.

The new kitchen is beautiful, the job is ok (despite being so completely against my tactile and earth-based nature), the garden will be even more full next year.
I wish you could see it.
I never got to say good-bye. Actually, I am currently refusing to do so.
I wanted just one more visit, one more chance to hear you say I was fabulous.

And it breaks my heart to know I will never again get another e-mail starting with "Heya, Darlin'"

I don't know what happens when people die. I don't know if you can hear me or see me cry (but I promiss not to do something stupid, and to pick myself up soon).

All I know is I will never forget you.
Do you remember telling me about the Irish "keening," that wordless miasma of pain that builds up and can only be released through a deep, psychic scream? The cry of deep soul hurt that can eventually heal, but first tear a person apart? That I was about 30 years overdo, but should come to that point someday, but make sure that Jim was there to keep me safe?
Ok. So what happens next?.
Thats all.
Ciao, Darlin'