Jeremiah's School of Levitation

Before I get to the poetry word, I need to say something.

We lost our school librarian, a person I've known for five years, to a fucked up crime. She and her daughter went hiking two days ago, in one of the many remote and stunningly beautiful places here in the Great Northwest, to enjoy the grandeur and spectacle of life, and they met up with someone who was out for apparently the opposite reason. This maggot, this person who I would COMPLIMENT by calling a piece of crap, shot her and her daughter to death. No apparent motive. Right on the trail. Right under the sun. I am so goddammned mad that I can barely breathe.

Our librarian was the most positive person I've yet known. I never saw her without a smile on her face. Never. She exuded love. To stand near her was to be re-energized. She genuinely loved the children. She knew, by memory, which book every kid checked out. She didn't just appear in their world every day, she attempted to enrich their world every day. She was the brightest light. She was walking sunshine. If this whole vicious fucking planet had just 100 souls like hers, then there would be no problems.

Her daughter worked for many environmental groups, was an avid activist, and also gave the bulk of her time to growing the spirits of children, teaching them how to love and respect the outdoors. She was her mother's spiritual twin.

How do our children deal with this? How can a pillar of love, support, optimism, and learning be taken like this? How do you explain to your children that, no matter how amazingly good and influential you try to be, this cannibalistic world will still devour you? It's not surprising, really, that these sorts of outrageous things happen. I spend my breath telling my boys that violence is ALWAYS an unacceptable alternative and that society won't tolerate it, and then they turn on the TV or read the paper and they see that the highest authority in our land condones reckless killing. When we've asked that man point blank when we'll end the killing, he shrugs and says that we will not end the killing. We will stay the course, and we will continue the killing.

Welcome to the American legacy.

I choose to remember our librarian, and her daughter, as the fleeting glints that catch our eye as we stroll amongst the shit. At an impromptu memorial at the school last night, many lay flowers at the doorstep, as did I. I also contributed a book to the gifts. I placed a copy of The Giving Tree among the flowers. That's what she was. This world has lost one of its saviours. It isn't fair.

I was going to contribute a poem for the word today, which is "patient." I think all I'll do is use that word to assuage my grief. I must remain patient with this world. I must continue to patiently preach good to my kids, even as the news reports of their beautiful librarian and her daughter being murdered echo in the background. I must stay patient with myself and not go raging through the rest of my life, spitting on the ground and kicking out at nothing. I need to know that the lessons of our librarian's life must have to overshadow the grim lesson of her death. I need a whole fucking lot of patience right now. Because, otherwise, I will scream for days.

I am so very sorry for your loss. It's the world we live in, unfortunately, where it seems the powerful are the negative and destructive ones. It's an overpowering feeling to think that two rich and full lives were squashed at someone's simple whim.

Brings to mind the words of James Keelaghan,

Friends and relations and all we hold dear
Will one day pass to the other side.
So you'd better embrace them as long as they're here.
Oh, everyone dies.

oh wow, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry...

hang in there, because as you know shit does happen, really bad, awful crap, and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason, and our leaders are no help, and we have to hang tough when necessary, and just keep loving...

thinking of you all, and the family of these incredible women... I send my prayers...

This was the most honest, beautiful tribute you could have given the librarian and her daughter. Sent me to rivers of tears. As does 'The Giving Tree'.

I heard about this senseless murder on the news, and wondered if it would in any way touch your family in particular. I'm so, so sorry it did.

Patience, yes, a big gulp of air and a quiet spot, patience to deal with these deaths in this world, and to hug our kids and remind ourselves how lucky we are.

That is so sad. The ripples of this crime will be felt for long time by you and your family - just awful.