One remembrance

We dropped down into Denver, the lights below, the wisps of cloud and snow, a funny time of year to visit. A time you wouldn’t unless you had to, the passing of my brother-in-law Chip, a celebration of life at the house with memory boards, family and friends. The kids gathered round the kitchen island, ordering out Chinese, buffet style with paper plates and napkins. The strange feel in the air, all of us trying to make the best of it, happy to be together but for our circumstances. In the morning, that slate blue wintry sky like the paintings from the southwest hung around the house. Patches of snow on the neighbor’s roofs still, icy bands along the streets. The sun rising slow, a hot white ember in a stew of cold and gray, this day we remember Chip.



Categories: death, Memoir, prose, writing

Tags: , , , ,

8 replies

  1. I’m so sorry about Chip. I just went through this a few weeks ago with an old college friend. Bitter, bitter sweet. The joy of connecting with long lost friends juxtaposed against the pain of losing someone too young. Enjoy the memories, Bill.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Sorry for your loss, but your descriptions are lovely. At wakes/funerals, etc., there are always tears, but joy in the memories.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m sorry about the loss of chip, to you and your family. the Chinese food, the bits of snow, the gathering – all pieces of the universe to find its balance once again.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The words, “brother-in-law” made me gasp. Too young. I’m so sorry for your loss. Memorial gatherings always carry a strange weight with them. Love and loss. Sending love.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: