I Know Why The Bluebird Sings
The wife aka sexymathteacher is putting sonofteacherman to bed and seeing as he’s a bit sickly today she may be a while before he lets her go and come in double check my handy work on the taxes. He likes to reach and make sure you’re still there, especially when he doesn’t feel good. It’s really cute and sweet but it does make it hard sneak out of his room. Thus I have a few minutes to contemplate life and write something in this blog
I’m still not good with Dallas dying. I cried about a couple of times, talked to a few people about it but it still sucks. I’ve been flipping through my Edna St. Vincent Millay poems and she says the same thing. I was looking for a poem to recite at my brother and law’s funeral last year and came to the conclusion that you can’t really use one of her poems at a funeral. She’s far too blunt and not the least bit comforting in these times. It seems to me like she comes out and says it sucks. Death does suck, at least for those of left behind and she makes no bones about it. I’m a man of faith and I truly believe that Dallas, Doug, Angela, T-Bird and other friends of mine who have left me behind are truly happy now and much better off than they ever imagined. However we feel loss and they are gone and they aren’t coming back.
I’ve posted “Dirge Without Music” before so scroll down a couple to find that one. Here’s just plain “Dirge”
Boys and girls that held her dear,
Do your weeping now;
All you loved of her lies here.
Brought to earth the arrogant brow,
And the withering tongue
Chastened; do your weeping now.
Sing whatever songs are sung,
Wind whatever wreath,
For a playmate perished young,
For a spirit spent in death.
Boys and girls that held her dear,
All you loved of her lies here.
I’m still not good with Dallas dying. I cried about a couple of times, talked to a few people about it but it still sucks. I’ve been flipping through my Edna St. Vincent Millay poems and she says the same thing. I was looking for a poem to recite at my brother and law’s funeral last year and came to the conclusion that you can’t really use one of her poems at a funeral. She’s far too blunt and not the least bit comforting in these times. It seems to me like she comes out and says it sucks. Death does suck, at least for those of left behind and she makes no bones about it. I’m a man of faith and I truly believe that Dallas, Doug, Angela, T-Bird and other friends of mine who have left me behind are truly happy now and much better off than they ever imagined. However we feel loss and they are gone and they aren’t coming back.
I’ve posted “Dirge Without Music” before so scroll down a couple to find that one. Here’s just plain “Dirge”
Boys and girls that held her dear,
Do your weeping now;
All you loved of her lies here.
Brought to earth the arrogant brow,
And the withering tongue
Chastened; do your weeping now.
Sing whatever songs are sung,
Wind whatever wreath,
For a playmate perished young,
For a spirit spent in death.
Boys and girls that held her dear,
All you loved of her lies here.