A sad passing
Sep. 12th, 2009 07:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rowanfRussell and Erika and I went to an amazing gourmet appetizer party at A&A's last night. So much amazing exquisite food. We got home around midnight and I checked my mail to see if I had heard back from Don. I don't know if I did or not. The first piece of email I saw reported the passing of my friend Beki. Ochone, ochone, one of the dear wise ones is gone.
I have so many memories. Of her smile, her wisdom, her passion for life and for growing things. She was an amazing woman, mother and priestess. I liked and admired her very much. She will be missed her husband and children and by a very wide community. By several very wide communities because she touched so many lives in so many different spheres.
My mind, usually so unwilling to give up memories, went to a poem she had sent me a few years ago when she was getting some compost from the bottom of a hill near a local cemetary to put in her extensive garden.
A letter to Maman Brigitte
Maman Brigitte, Cemetaire Maman!
Merci, merci, beaucoups!
The Dead feed the living
The Dead do nourish us all,
And your gift will feed me,
and my family,
and my community.
The Dead feed the living:
Maman, watch over my Dead
and give them Peace.
I will watch over my Dead,
and give you Praise,
and feed them, by your Grace!
Chere Maman,
Ache, Brigitte!
Merci, merci beaucoups!
Rebekah Filipello, June 2006
She is now one of the Beloved Dead and her life and memory will feed the living. But, ochone, it is a meager meal compared to the delight of her living company. I will miss you, my friend.
I have so many memories. Of her smile, her wisdom, her passion for life and for growing things. She was an amazing woman, mother and priestess. I liked and admired her very much. She will be missed her husband and children and by a very wide community. By several very wide communities because she touched so many lives in so many different spheres.
My mind, usually so unwilling to give up memories, went to a poem she had sent me a few years ago when she was getting some compost from the bottom of a hill near a local cemetary to put in her extensive garden.
A letter to Maman Brigitte
Maman Brigitte, Cemetaire Maman!
Merci, merci, beaucoups!
The Dead feed the living
The Dead do nourish us all,
And your gift will feed me,
and my family,
and my community.
The Dead feed the living:
Maman, watch over my Dead
and give them Peace.
I will watch over my Dead,
and give you Praise,
and feed them, by your Grace!
Chere Maman,
Ache, Brigitte!
Merci, merci beaucoups!
Rebekah Filipello, June 2006
She is now one of the Beloved Dead and her life and memory will feed the living. But, ochone, it is a meager meal compared to the delight of her living company. I will miss you, my friend.
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