#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15
#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The original poem i wrote just after Bill died and before the funeral, is in the blog linked above. It was recited by my Jesuit priest friend John Veltri who encouraged this exposure (not of my premeditated thoughts) while my close friend Bruce Gremo played classical guitar. Many had attended and were sitting on the floor, standing to any corner left inside the room. Bill had a lot of friends, he was just thirty when he died of cancer in 1976, May 15. He used to joke with our sister Carolyn Roche that life begins at 40 and he let go of his pain that night on her 40th birthday. She is 82 today. Bill left behind a son Chris Smith whom he loved very much and often talked of him privately with me. Bill was my best friend, my big brother, three years older than myself with my brother Allyn in between whom also is extremely close. Lindsay Stewart ink sketched this picture from a photograph superbly and i thank him for that. The family had so few photographs of Bill. I was just beginning my life in photography that year therefore i have no images of Bill at all. I miss Bill often and i suppose i will till i'm also dispersed into the great mystery. If we're lucky we have a special person in our lives to help us up when life gets us down; we did that for each other, and nobody has quite replaced him in that way since. His life in death has taught me many lessons. It never ends.......not yet! ........ remembering you today and sharing for the ones that might care....happy birthday Carolyn.
Self-ies - Portraits | DSC_0057.jpg
Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
IN MEMORIAM
As he lies there slowly turning to ashes And time, past and future all hurled into one pointing our lives to this tormenting moment This shock of death piercing its way to our very souls leaving – no escape only tears dripping from eyes hoping our pale cheeks can absorb and calm the pain This passing completely unknown – to all here right out of our hands it has its say without so much as a whisper from our dampened lips Tho, the fact black as coal still – leaves us uneasy The glass of life smashed crumbled to bits and remaining only fragments to cherish to linger indefinitely
Silently, the memories will come and they will come and come easy for this man was a good man a good, good man like the rustling of the leaves of some forgotten autumn night and, lonesome of this world it’s then, he’ll reappear as the true friend he is. the very image of his honest eyes will say more than a million written words and to those who knew him your memories will ring true with the lessons he has given to his dying breath.
the pain we share to see his vacant presence there, in that form once his can’t compare to the suffering in his long – last days his eyes, truly in agony his body, tormented to the marrow now – in rest slowly turning back to whence it came
I pressed him, gently with my hands as his last breath eased from his lips and faded, slowly to the heavens and i felt deep, within my heart the miracle of love It would be Bills wish to turn our pain – now and forever to the warm glowing love let it be done
And may God through brothers like Bill make pure – all our souls.
GOD BLESS YOU BILL
your kid brother, pat