The Final Journey:Four Dimensions of Grief
Anger (anger with death)
Anguish (saddness/denial)
Do Not Ask (coming to terms with death)
The Final Act (acceptance)
"Christmas Letter", is an introduction to this section. I am including the letter here as it details our relationship over the years. The letter, along with a copy of the poem "Friends" was sent with the Christmas poem "As Christmas Nears" as my seasonal greeting (1997).
"Don's Poem: Friends", was the second poem ("Time" was the first) I composed during the period July '97 to Jan. ‘98. Originally I thought of it as a piece that would describe friendships my father had over 60 years or more dating from his youth and home town of Yacolt, Washington. After dad's death in 1980 my mother maintained those relationships, attesting to the enduring connections through time and passing from one generation to another. Shortly after beginning the poem "Friends", I learned of Don's terminal illness and suddenly the composition took on a whole new meaning and direction. This poem took several weeks to finish. How does one account for enduring friendships and how does one assimilate the death of so close a friend, a soul brother, questions not really having answers. I shed many tears while composing this piece. After it was completed I renamed it”, Don's Poem: Friends", as it was written with our friendship in my mind. A friend on the internet suggested this title change when I sent the poem to her for posting on her web site, the first time one of my poetic works was placed on the internet. This piece was one of two selected to be read at Don's funeral service.
Three works, "Good-bye My friend Good-bye"“, I am Glad I had the Chance", and "Sands", are written about my ties with Don from our early adolescent years to his death. "Good-bye...” is the more poignant from my standpoint and more than any other, speaks to the brotherhood of our relationship. It was written in mid November 1997 and along with Friends", "Good-bye" was the second poem read at Don's funeral service. "I am Glad I had the Chance", was the second to be written about our relationship. The title and its repeat throughout the composition indeed conveys what I wanted to do here, to state that I am glad I had the chance to know Don. We did a lot and experienced so much together, but importantly it is the enduring relationship which remains to reside in my soul. "Sands", recalls times Don and I shared in and around our home community of Coos County Oregon. The poem describes the area around the cities of Coos Bay and North Bend specifically Shore Acres and Bassendorf parks, and the mouth of the bay at Charleston where the jetty reaches to the ocean, one of the more treacherous entrances on the Oregon coast. These locations are where we often spent time just sitting, looking, talking and sharing a beer or two, something we wont be doing again.
The piece, "I Think of You Often", was among the very first poems I wrote after I learned of Don's illness. It was written at a time when the seriousness of his illness could not be denied but yet hope still prevailed. The work describes my thoughts of our friendship over the years and those not now to come about. I was feeling sorry for myself, but then began to realize that what Don and Jane, his wife, faced alone and together was greater than that I was experiencing. Never the less, this piece is the beginning of my intense and profound grieving.
The composition, "That Boy", not unlike most I have written, began with one thread of thought but became altered almost from the beginning. I first thought I would write a piece describing what Don may have been like as an infant, from perhaps a mother's or father's perspective. That direction was immediately abandoned and the work became a combination of experiences and events of life from Don's, mine and one of my foster son's, written from a parent's perspective. I tried to place myself in that space a parent might find themselves when learning an adult child is about to die. Most who read this poem immediately connect to the underlying meaning and quite readily sense the ending. It is perhaps one of my more moving pieces.
"Jane's Poem: One Last Time", began as I thought about the times Don and I shared as kids to the present. However, it quickly changed as it unfolded to one that might in some way be those of Jane's thoughts and feelings as she faced her husbands pending death. This poem did not take a great deal of time to write, but it is one that I feel has a special meaning and poignancy to it. When completed, it was obvious to me that it was indeed, "Jane's Poem: One Last Time". When I read this poem I am struck by the intense emotion that I was able to convey, the truth found in any solid and good relationship is laid bare here. I think this is one of my better poems and certainly pulls from the depths of my sorrow. Over the years. since this piece was written, "Once Last Time" has been shared with a number of people facing the terminal illness of a significant other and have found it touches what they are struggling to express.
Not unlike other compositions I wrote during this time period, "Spirit Angel", came about at the end of an email written to Jane. I had just finished the body of the mail and the last sentence just continued into the verse. It is not a particularly good work, but captures what I was experiencing at the time and wanted to convey to Jane.
I dont think, "Anger", is a good poem. It does not read well. It is fragmented and choppy. I may compose another version. But I will keep this one as it is raw emotion. This came about on Thanksgiving night following a long and emotionally exhausting phone conversation with Jane. Don was now in a local Lodi extended care hospital following what I believe to be a morphine overdose administered by Home Health and resulting in a drug induced psychosis. This was the beginning of his downward turn. I knew at the end of this conversation with Jane that Don's death was now just a matter of days away. I had begun to accept the finality of his situation and my ensuing emotional storm of anger spilled out to the keyboard along with tears streaming down my face.
"A Thanksgiving Letter”, is an email letter I sent to Don the day after Thanksgiving and following the above episode. However, I learned later he never saw it nor had it read to him. I was not going to include the letter in this collection. But after much debate with myself, I have decided to do so for two critical reasons. One, it represents the turning point for me in coming to terms with Don's death; secondly, it chronicles our relationship from our early teens. I knew on that evening of Thanksgiving Day after a phone conversation with Jane that Don would not be with us for Christmas. After talking with Jane, I turned to a letter I had started to Don in September but had not finished. As I reached the end of the "Thanksgiving Letter", I was sobbing almost uncontrollably, words cannot match the anguish I felt. Throughout the composition several phrases appear which later became poems, such as "I Think of You Often", "Anguish", and "Your Smile", although some compositions were not written until after his death, this letter is indeed like a road map of my struggle with Don's terminal illness and his coming death.
For clarification purposes I want to comment here about a situation in Don's medical care that was in my mind the turning point for him. In the letter I refer to an event that occurred, "to you last weekend (which) was not fair.” In my judgment, Don had been given an overdose of morphine by Home Health. The result, again my opinion, was a drug-induced psychosis. Don insisted that Jane call me that evening, he then got on the phone and began a bizarre tale of "them doing things to him"! Following my conversation with him, I spoke with Jane alerting her to the possibility of aggressive and or harmful behavior on Don's part as a result of the psychosis. Indeed both behaviors occurred within an hour of the conversation. After forcing Jane out of the car while on the way to emergency admission at a Lodi hospital, Don left with the car. He was found in the Sacramento area some hours later, forty or more miles away from his home. Confused, dazed and with loose and tangential thoughts, he was transferred to a general hospital in Stockton and then a week or so later to an intermediate car hospital in Lodi. This, then, is where he was on Thanksgiving. He never made it home again. The overdose was the turning point for Don. I was not to speak with him again following that tragic night in early November. He died on December 12 about four hours before I arrived on a return trip to Lodi.
The poem, "Anguish", was written just a few days prior to Don's death. I cannot now recall the exact date, I believe somewhere around the eighth or so of Dec. Don passed away on the 12th. But I do vividly recall the emotion and the torment I was experiencing. I think the poem's written word most likely conveys those feelings quite clearly. I was not ready for his death.
"Tuesday, December 09, 1997 8:12 AM", is a saved email messages sent to Jane. While reviewing email sent to her, I found this short verse. I sent it to Jane three days prior to Don's death. She had been visiting him in the intermediate care facility and was voicing feelings of being overwhelmed by all of the most recent events and now looming closer the tragedy of losing her husband. I had written back giving my empathy and support and sharing some of my grief with her. As I ended the email, I wrote the short verse. I had forgotten about it, so many emails back and forth, and so much written during that time! I am leaving as title, the date and time sent.
"The Final Act", for the most part was written on the back of the funeral service brochure as we made the return trip to Lodi, about a ninety-mile ride, following Don's burial in a Veterans Cemetery. The poem describes my actions and thoughts as I assisted the funeral director and an elderly veteran as they struggled to reload the casket into the hearse following the military service. Had I not intervened, I am sure the casket would have fallen to the pavement. For me it was somewhat ironic that I was one of the last to reach out to Don. The casket was then transported to another section of the National Cemetery for Don’s final resting place. The last three lines of the poem is a slightly revised version of the lines I wrote that morning prior to the funeral service and which I read just before the formal Military burial service at the cemetery. These are the original:
"You now sleep softly in silent slumber,
your spirit to rise where now the soul resides
to join us all in future reprise. "
T. Condon Dec. 16, '97
The composition, "Do Not Ask", was started on December 15th the night before Don's funeral service on Tuesday, Dec.16th. It was not finished until the morning of February 25, 1998. It was a hard work to think upon and to find the right expressions to describe the overwhelming emotions flooding my mind that night, but I think I have been able to do so. The poem begins the process of really saying good-bye and perhaps that is why the composition took so long for me to come to some sort of finish with it.
your spirit to rise where now the soul resides
to join us all in future reprise. "
T. Condon Dec. 16, '97
The composition, "Do Not Ask", was started on December 15th the night before Don's funeral service on Tuesday, Dec.16th. It was not finished until the morning of February 25, 1998. It was a hard work to think upon and to find the right expressions to describe the overwhelming emotions flooding my mind that night, but I think I have been able to do so. The poem begins the process of really saying good-bye and perhaps that is why the composition took so long for me to come to some sort of finish with it.
"Jane's Letter", was written on January 17, 1997 little over one month since Don's passing. What I am including in this collection is a short verse I wrote for Jane and about the pathways now before her. I told Jane in the body of the letter that I knew she had significant decisions to make and that well meaning people perhaps would give counsel without full understanding, urging her to take this or that course of action. I wanted her to know that whatever she did, I was on her side. I finished the email with the short verse and a graphic I labeled as a "picture" of her cat, Arthur.
"Heaven's New Shining Star", is a title taken from an internet news group post that a friend, Nancy, made on my behalf while I was in Lodi following Don's death. I wrote this piece after returning home from Lodi and again reading the post Nancy had made. The poem had a beginning on the night of Don's funeral. I had stepped outside and stood in Don and Jane's backyard looking up at the darken sky. It was a clear night and the sky was brilliant with stars. I think this work is also one of my more poignant pieces. Since writing it, I have shared it with others who have lost a loved one. The poem moves me each time I read it, and at one level it was the final painful piece in saying good-bye.
"Your Smile: In Final Tribute", was the hardest to write and took the most time to compose. This composition chronicles Don's life and my observation of that process. The title comes from a photograph of Don taken not long after he enlisted in the military in 1958. It is a color photo with him in full uniform, he has a wide smile and a very happy and pleased appearance, a satisfied look about himself. In this picture Don's front teeth appear straight, corrected by Army dentists, and not the misaligned appearance which had been caused by thumb sucking, a substitute for the parenting not available in early childhood. Later on as a pre-teen others would make fun of him calling him "monkey" because of the appearance of the teeth. Such a horrid thing for any child to endure! Entering young adulthood, Don was now free of those taunts. This poem went through a number of revisions and the final version here still does not totally please me. It tells the story of Don's struggles from childhood (such as the name-calling) to adulthood, his rise to success as a businessman, and then all too early the tragedy of terminal illness. While some may have thought Don a simple man, not complicated or given to great thinking, they are indeed wrong. Often quiet and to himself, but beyond a protective layer of veneer a man of much thought and introspection did exist. I hope this lengthy poem captures this often hidden attribute.
“A Year Has Come and Gone”, the poem was finished on December 4, 1998, short eight days from the one year anniversary of Don’s passing. This poem describes my my finally accepting the loss after one year of my friend’s passing. It was from self-examination of my reaction to grief which arose the incredible raw emotions that resulted in my beginning to write. This special poem recognizes that through Don’s death, I discovered the gift of writing. The poem gives tribute to that thought. The graphics, along with the midi of Kitaro’s, “ Light of the Spirit” accompanying the poem are those which I felt represented the intense emotions revealed by the piece. This then, for now, is my final salute to a friend, a soul brother, who once walked here with me. Finally, in explanation, my father who appears as Billy Boy in a separate section of the collection believed that, “things always work out for the best.” and I sign this piece with that thought.
Ted C (rev. Nov. 03)
Ted C (rev. Nov. 03)
The Final Journey
I am altering the format of this section to accommodate the following four poems under this new heading The Final Journey:Four Dimensions of Grief
"Anger", "Anguish",
"Dont Ask", "The Final Act".
It was not until I began work on "Don's Poem: Friends" for the web site that I was reminded with stark reality of the night that I wrote "Anger" while listening for the first time to the sequenced midi "The Final Journey" a computer generated musical score. I have no idea why the original score was written and have no recollection of ever hearing it before that night in November 1997, just days before cancer took my friend away. But even now, almost eight years later, I cannot forget the extreme emotional impact this musical piece had on me. At once the music removed the cloak of protective defenses shielding me from the underlying grief and remorse which had been building and festering for weeks, generating feelings, thoughts, and emotions so powerfully overwhelming, so painful, so extreme in the depth and intensity that release had to be sought!
I am altering the format of this section to accommodate the following four poems under this new heading The Final Journey:Four Dimensions of Grief
"Anger", "Anguish",
"Dont Ask", "The Final Act".
It was not until I began work on "Don's Poem: Friends" for the web site that I was reminded with stark reality of the night that I wrote "Anger" while listening for the first time to the sequenced midi "The Final Journey" a computer generated musical score. I have no idea why the original score was written and have no recollection of ever hearing it before that night in November 1997, just days before cancer took my friend away. But even now, almost eight years later, I cannot forget the extreme emotional impact this musical piece had on me. At once the music removed the cloak of protective defenses shielding me from the underlying grief and remorse which had been building and festering for weeks, generating feelings, thoughts, and emotions so powerfully overwhelming, so painful, so extreme in the depth and intensity that release had to be sought!
A comment about the graphics used to illustrate this section. I have used graphics from each of the preceding poems in this section, "Don and Me", to relate and connect this final ending to all that came before.
"Anger" became the pathway for letting go of all the underlying emotions. I recall sitting at the keyboard pounding on the instrument like it was a drum beating out the words to this poem while the music carried me up and down the ladder of grief, mourning, and sadness. I still do not think "Anger" is at all a poetic piece to necessarily share with other readers. But it along with the other three in this newly created area for "Don and Me" more than accurately reveals my journey through the grieving process. So I have decided to depart somewhat from the outline given above for this section and share with the reader my emotional experience with, "The Final Journey". The
midi is the last piece to the medley you are now listening to.
What I intend to do here is put these compositions on the web interconnected to the sound file playing throughout the presentation of the four. Hopefully I can arrange them to match the midi. The sound file is just under six minutes duration with many soft, peaceful sections, but also those with thundering and magnified crescendos all of which I related to the passing from one life on to the next, "The Final Journey".
tedc Sept.18, 2005
Today is September 26, 2005 and I have just up loaded these four compositions to the web site. What an experience it has been putting these together with the midi! I more than recalled the time period in which these were written. I relived it! I had not anticipated the emotional impact this task would bring with it. Once again, it was like an emotional roller coaster as each time I worked with the text and the graphics to accompany them I again felt the emotions I had written about some eight years earlier. But in the end, I think I have created a fitting final tribute to a friend whose absence I truely experience, and a closing piece to this section of my work which so accurately depicts my thoughts, and feelings about our relationship, and which dramatically depict my journey through the dimensions of grief. I hope the reader will over look some of the poorly worded text by keeping in mind the circumstances for the four compositions.
A note on the technical aspects for this piece. I have add at the end a selection from the midi sequenced for the Lords Prayer. At the mid point in the text you have heard the midi piece, "Deep Purple ", I have used it here as it was Don's favorite music piece. While the screen resoultion is set to 800 x 600, the graphics will not encompass the entire screen and they are not intended to do so, but instead will play across the screen in either 400x600 or 800x600 or larger dimensions.
tedc Sept. 26, 2005
Christmas Letter
Don's Poem: Friends
I Think of You Often
That Boy
Good-bye My Friend, Good-bye
I am Glad I had the Chance
Sands of Time
Jane's Poem: One Last Time
Spirit Angel
Don's Poem: Friends
I Think of You Often
That Boy
Good-bye My Friend, Good-bye
I am Glad I had the Chance
Sands of Time
Jane's Poem: One Last Time
Spirit Angel
Thanksgiving Letter
Tuesday, December 09, 1997 8:12 AM
Jane's Letter
Heaven's New Shining Star
Your Smile: In Final Tribute
A Year Has Come and Gone
Tuesday, December 09, 1997 8:12 AM
Jane's Letter
Heaven's New Shining Star
Your Smile: In Final Tribute
A Year Has Come and Gone