for mary

 

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The subject line of the e mail read: Mary is in a coma. And the subject line of the e mail later that day read: Mary died at 3:10 p.m. The delivery seemed as poignantly sad as the occurrence. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to write about the passing of a dear friend, I don’t know what to write that doesn’t sound like a eulogy, and I don’t want to write anything that sounds like a eulogy—nobody should be writing a eulogy. We all know how special she was. Was. There will be a celebration of her life. A celebration. I get that, I understand that that’s what people do these days, that that is what they call funeral services–let’s put an upbeat spin to it all, celebrate their time with us, for surely, that’s how the deceased would have wanted it. And there will be plenty of laughter for Mary was a joyous person. But there will be plenty of tears for no one ever wanted her to go, never imagined her gone, and there is no celebrating in that.

 

photo: John and Mary Messmore, Decatur, GA, 2014

 

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