Tag Archives: loss. grief

The Unexpected We Should Expect

26 Oct

If we do not see someone or talk to them in thirty years can we  still consider them a good friend? Are comments and posts on Facebook enough? Somehow I imagined running into him in a coffee shop and picking up the conversation where we left off. Memories, shared history and familiarity would bring us up to date. Where did the time go?

This week I lost that opportunity. Gareth found out two months ago that he had gallbladder cancer. It’s one of those nasty cancers that by the time you find out, it’s too late. It hit me like a punch in the stomach. I can’t imagine what it did to his wife and son.

I went to Gareth and Wendy’s wedding in 1983. My son was days old when I wrapped us both in a blanket and ventured out. It was April and one of those Texas spring days with the sun out and a blustery wind. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding in the Texas Hill Country

I called a mutual friend this week to make sure she knew of his passing . She reminisced of a road trip they took, camping along the way. “I had such a crush on him.” I think we all did.

A friend wrote on his FB page, “If I was told that as of yesterday there were no more mountains on earth, I think it would feel the way I feel hearing there is no more Gareth. It’s simply impossible. I love that guy. ❤️.” What a lovely sentiment.

His page is filling up with stories, sadness, and shock. He was such a dear person.

My “old” friend Gareth.

One more reason to be grateful for another day on this spinning rock. Farewell and adiós Gareth. To have been so loved is a life well lived. And we did not expect it.

DOS TORTAS

The Loss Of An Artist And Friend

24 Apr

When an artist dies, the art that never was is often mourned with as much grief as—if not more grief than—the individual themself. The individual, after all, was flesh and blood. It’s the art that’s immortal.” Esme Wang

Sometimes we don’t know what someone means to us until they’re gone. Filiberto Ayala had more talent in his little finger than I will ever have in my whole body. He also had more heart.

Me learning body painting from the master.
Such talent.

Fili died this week of brain cancer. I never did find out what kind. Coming from a poor, uneducated family, it probably didn’t make any difference to them. Having lost my youngest brother to a glioblastoma, it mattered to me.

He spent days painting this mural in our bathroom. I see him there everyday.
What a gift he gave me.

I had plans to visit him again on Monday. He died that morning before I could get there. When I went to pay my respects, he was laid out in a coffin in the living room with family and friends sitting outside. There was going to be an all night vigil and cremation the following day. I wish I could have stayed. I think it would have been awkward. At least that’s what I tell myself.

His art is not immortalized in museums, but on walls and in our hearts.

Fili’s Facebook page was flooded with photos, accolades, and stories. He was loved by many, an amazing, artist, son, father and friend. Go with God dear Filiberto.

DOS TORTAS

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