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| Left by me... in the Kripalu Meditation Garden |
Before I went to Kripalu last week I paid a visit to Barry's brother and sister in Northampton, MA. I had not been there in a few years and it was nice to be back in their hometown. Barry and I had lived there early in our relationship and had brought our children to visit with family over the years. I had many memories wash over me as we drove along and over the Connecticut River.
The morning I was to leave, twin brother Larry took sister Sandra and me to a section of a cemetery that had pavers with the names of veterans. He had purchased one that reads 'Francis J. Carlson, Barry F. Carlson, Larry J. Carlson - US Army Veterans'. That, along with a stone in another cemetery, were touching to see with Barry's wonderful siblings.
Of the many things we worked on in the Creative Writing Sampler with Heather Sellers this past week were some poetic forms, one of them being abecedarius - a type of ABC poem.
I think because I had revisited Northampton and seen his name in stone, I spiraled gently back to Barry's death day. And this is the abecedarius that came as I worked on 'homework' in the middle of my last night at Kripalu.
Letters on pavers, letters on stone, letters on a page...
Barry. May 29, 2002. I’m in my
classroom, but my attention is
drawn outward. Even sweet second grade
energy doesn’t keep me fully
focused. A quiet, shy
girl asks for help. Two boys collaborate on ‘The Anty Adventures of Bob and
Harry’. My ed tech talks with her
individual student as he works on a poem.
Jack, my mathematician, writes his own
kind of story with numbers and words.
Light streams in the large casement windows
making patterns on the worn hardwood floor.
No reason, but I walk
over, look out to see a Farmington
policeman stride toward the front door. I
quiver when the intercom beeps and I’m called down
right away. The
somber young officer tells me you collapsed playing
tennis, I’m needed at the hospital. Somehow I
understand that my life is shifting. The
very moment I turn into the hospital drive an energy
washes over me - strong, palpable, undeniable. Later I know
exactly what it is.
Your Love. I know this to be true. And like a
zephyr it weaves its way into my life, even today.
Sarah Carlson
in my room at Kripalu
August 4 into 5, 2016
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