Thank you, Dear Leanne, for this beautiful reflection on our friendship and on Randall's living and dying. I needed to read it again after crying freely through my first read. Randall and you shared the gift of knowing that words have the power to heal with loving intention.
The words printed on the photo of us dancing were written by the marvelous poet, Mark Nepo.
Randall and I love his poems and writings and I regret are not credited to him on the photo. Tomorrow is his funeral and the following day is a ceremony of "laying in" the container that will help his body turn into enriched soil through body composting. In about two months, Randall's beautiful tall, graceful dancing body will be returned to us and we will take it to his favorite places to nurture the trees and all things natural and wild that he loved and to which he knew he belonged. Thank you, My Friend. I look forward to drinking some champagne toasts to him with you when I come to Memphis at the end of the summer. As always, I send much love.
Oh, Sharon, thank you so much for being in touch. I have fixed the attribution of the poem on the photograph, and will keep you and all who loved Randall in my prayers during this season. Of course he chose body composting ... showing the way with gentleness and intention, once again. Sending you love. And just let me know where and I'll bring the champagne. xoxo
Thanks for sharing this piece about dying Leanne. I am sorry for the loss of your dear friend. What a legacy he has left for those that knew and loved him. I have thought about death and dying a lot both in my work and my personal life. There is an intimacy to it. I always feel privileged when people allow me to be a part of it. Each of us must determine how to face death. I learn so much from the choices people make. I had a dear friend whose family of choice cared for her. She was young, 40, single and had ovarian cancer. She was at Evanston Hospital and they let us take her to the beach when she was in hospice. On one of our final trips there she suggested we take a shoebox and we filled it with sand and shells. When she couldn't leave the hospital anymore she would say lets go the beach and open the shoebox. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through the sand and we talked about the water and the warmth of the sun. She was fearless and fun and unforgettable for those of us that shared this precious time with her. She faced death with dignity and on her own terms which brought her peace and peace to those of us who cared for her knowing we helped fulfill her wishes. I learned a lot from her.
Iris, you are so right: It's an enormous privilege to get to be part of someone's journey toward death, and I can just picture your friend at the beach in Evanston. That's one of the things that made Randall and Sharon so special: We were always able to be frank about what was happening, ask questions, make jokes, etc., which actually allowed for so much more connection than if we'd all been studiously trying to ignore what was happening. Sending you light, my friend.
I recently lost a good friend who died rather unexpectedly from an illness that came on pretty quickly. It was a shock. Her husband is trying to figure out life without her. There are all kinds of transitions from life to death, some over a long period of time and some rather abruptly. Made me think that everything we can do to prepare our loved ones for when we're gone is one of the kindest things we can do. I've since gotten a lot of the miscellaneous stuff I take care of better organized so someone can figure it all out! As always, thanks for the thoughtful messages you share.
I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. It's so hard when something happens suddenly. And yeah, it's probably helpful almost any time to make sure someone has at least a clue about your life's details. xoxo
I am so fortunate I was able to be with my mother as she walked home last week.
Sorry for your loss, Lisa. Glad you could be together at the end.
Thank you, Dear Leanne, for this beautiful reflection on our friendship and on Randall's living and dying. I needed to read it again after crying freely through my first read. Randall and you shared the gift of knowing that words have the power to heal with loving intention.
The words printed on the photo of us dancing were written by the marvelous poet, Mark Nepo.
Randall and I love his poems and writings and I regret are not credited to him on the photo. Tomorrow is his funeral and the following day is a ceremony of "laying in" the container that will help his body turn into enriched soil through body composting. In about two months, Randall's beautiful tall, graceful dancing body will be returned to us and we will take it to his favorite places to nurture the trees and all things natural and wild that he loved and to which he knew he belonged. Thank you, My Friend. I look forward to drinking some champagne toasts to him with you when I come to Memphis at the end of the summer. As always, I send much love.
Oh, Sharon, thank you so much for being in touch. I have fixed the attribution of the poem on the photograph, and will keep you and all who loved Randall in my prayers during this season. Of course he chose body composting ... showing the way with gentleness and intention, once again. Sending you love. And just let me know where and I'll bring the champagne. xoxo
Thanks for sharing this piece about dying Leanne. I am sorry for the loss of your dear friend. What a legacy he has left for those that knew and loved him. I have thought about death and dying a lot both in my work and my personal life. There is an intimacy to it. I always feel privileged when people allow me to be a part of it. Each of us must determine how to face death. I learn so much from the choices people make. I had a dear friend whose family of choice cared for her. She was young, 40, single and had ovarian cancer. She was at Evanston Hospital and they let us take her to the beach when she was in hospice. On one of our final trips there she suggested we take a shoebox and we filled it with sand and shells. When she couldn't leave the hospital anymore she would say lets go the beach and open the shoebox. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through the sand and we talked about the water and the warmth of the sun. She was fearless and fun and unforgettable for those of us that shared this precious time with her. She faced death with dignity and on her own terms which brought her peace and peace to those of us who cared for her knowing we helped fulfill her wishes. I learned a lot from her.
Iris, you are so right: It's an enormous privilege to get to be part of someone's journey toward death, and I can just picture your friend at the beach in Evanston. That's one of the things that made Randall and Sharon so special: We were always able to be frank about what was happening, ask questions, make jokes, etc., which actually allowed for so much more connection than if we'd all been studiously trying to ignore what was happening. Sending you light, my friend.
Wonderful insights, great touching story about your friends. Well told. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Carl.
Blessings, Leanne, to you and your friends. This is a lovely reflection and reminder. ♥️♥️♥️
Thanks, Leslie.
I recently lost a good friend who died rather unexpectedly from an illness that came on pretty quickly. It was a shock. Her husband is trying to figure out life without her. There are all kinds of transitions from life to death, some over a long period of time and some rather abruptly. Made me think that everything we can do to prepare our loved ones for when we're gone is one of the kindest things we can do. I've since gotten a lot of the miscellaneous stuff I take care of better organized so someone can figure it all out! As always, thanks for the thoughtful messages you share.
I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. It's so hard when something happens suddenly. And yeah, it's probably helpful almost any time to make sure someone has at least a clue about your life's details. xoxo
I Iove this Leanne. Beautiful.
Thanks, Lora. Sending you light.