remembering cay bahnmiller

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My Way (1940)

One goes in straightforward ways,
One in a circle roams:
Waits for a girl of his gone days,
Or for returning home.

But I do go — and woe is there —
By a way nor straight, nor broad,
But into never and nowhere,
Like trains — off the railroad.
–Anna Akhmatova
(thanks to cary loren for including this poem in his reflections about cay)

tomorrow will be 9 years since my friend cay died.  she was 53 years old. the age i will be this year.  according to my friend beth, ” the autopsy revealed a lethal dose of a drug used to treat either schizophrenia or bipolar disorder and an excessive amount of alcohol.”

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1475952_10204902628079869_5069454046003625689_n       from an entry in my journal at the time of her death: looking through the many books she had
given me over time, a page fell open in kierkegaard’s diary in which
he (taken from notes) ’ characterized his suffering (illness or
visitation) as a disproportion between his soul & body which made it
impossible for him to be like others, “realize the universal” (human
lot). for a time he was hoping to be cured & consulted a doctor, but
when it was made clear to him that nothing could be done, he conceived
of his “visitation” as “the thorn in the flesh” that crushed his human
happiness, yes, but at the same time gave him unique spiritual tensile
strength, made him an exceptional being. through it God educated him
“privatissime” in order that he might teach others what God had taught
him.’

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i pray she has found the peace that was never possible in her lifetime.

“he keeps seeing the woman’s face
come up under the ice, but he couldn’t get to her, he couldn’t free
her. her face was forever before him.”

http://www.metrotimes.com/detroit/out-from-the-dark/Content?oid=2177312

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4 thoughts on “remembering cay bahnmiller

  1. It is said by some belief systems that we choose the lives that we will be born to…in many instances, I can see the reason behind that belief. Then…you take a look at lives such as these…people with such beautiful gifts to offer…gifts of such depth and breadth that to share them means rending bits of their very soul…a precious pain that must be expressed, and yet it takes its toll quickly on the heart and the mind. It is too much for this humanity to bear. One has to wonder…was this short, tragic, beautiful life chosen? Was it known ahead of time, just how much pain was in store? If not, then we were certainly blessed with their presence for far longer than we could ever have asked of them, given the pain endured. Now…if they did know…and they came to us anyway…how blessed are we really??? This chosen life, this impacted heart…this is what we do here. It is why we are here. Thank you for sharing this.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. what you said is so beautiful & eloquent & i am having trouble accessing words today.

    “we were certainly blessed with their presence for far longer than we could ever have asked of them, given the pain endured. Now…if they did know…and they came to us anyway…how blessed are we really??? This chosen life, this impacted heart…this is what we do here. It is why we are here.”

    just know that this moved me to tears. ❤

    Like

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