All these weeks thinking about death, looking away from you, scared to summon up the remembrance of you. I forgot my Shakespeare, my darling Norman. But Maya’s passing reminded me that poets tell our heads what our hearts already know. I remembered my Shakespeare, and I remembered you.
You taught me to ask “why?”. You taught me to ask “why not?”. You taught me to look beneath. You taught me to look beyond. I ache every day without you. I celebrate every second I had with you. Dear friend, it’s true of course…. sorrows end in sweet silent thought of you.
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.