Puer & Senex: On the 8th Anniversary of Philip’s Death/March 15, 2015

Remembering Philip eight years on, childlike joy still comes first to mind. Still scaling trees (in his 60s) in search of fruit. Recklessly befriending a teenage alligator. Running sideways and backward because it was more creative than running forward. Singing in bathtubs and tunnels where the acoustics were best. Reciting and writing poetry, playing guitar, singing … always singing … Filling my days with light and love.

Delighting in nieces and nephews who turned to him for stories, music, laughter, and confidences. Sunny, summer hours spent with Misha when he was little, inventing from the books they read together. They were Bilbo and Gandalf, and anyone they didn’t like was a goblin, dwarf, troll, or, worst of all, Smaug.

Saluting the sun. Sun gazing. Hugging trees. Hugging the ground.

His rolling laughter loosened constriction … diminished pettiness. Hints of something greater flowed through the honeyed warmth of his humor. Absurd limericks he’d scribbled and left tucked into books (that I found after he was gone) tickled and broke my heart all over again. Something about him was timelessly young. The archetypal puer aeternis, the eternal child. Even when undeniably ill and suffering.

And then, in those final months, the senex emerged. A man, old but ethereal. Wise through suffering and the sensing of imminent mortality. So thin, the light shone through him. Lying on his bed in the Costa Rican retreat center, younger guests pulled up a chair to confide dreams, fears, and hopes. Calling on deep knowing that brought its own celestial atmosphere and texture, the air in the room grew dense. Holding a conflicted young man’s hand, leaning in to hear a woman’s secret, his words were lit candles. Pulling from sources of inspiration, all who were graced to be there felt lifted, embraced, entranced. We were awed. As was he. As Time and Fate pushed him inexorably closer to Death,.he became the best of himself … more than himself

Sending all my love and longing out into the Universe and toward you today … and always.

23 thoughts on “Puer & Senex: On the 8th Anniversary of Philip’s Death/March 15, 2015

  1. This lovely being described with your loving words…I’m sad to have never known him. He would have been a light, a beacon in one’s life. He has contributed to the lovely being you are…caress that today and always. Love.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Interrelatedness seems (to me) to take on its own personal meaning in a marriage. Thank you for your kind words. I, too, wish you could have known him (in person and not just through my eyes and heart).


  2. This entry is beyond beautiful, and says what we all feel for those who have left this world for another one. I think this is the best piece of writing I’ve ever read of your’s. Thank you and may his memory always remain a blessing to your heart.


  3. Thinking of you today (and always).  So great catching up with you yesterday with out our marathon call~let’s not wait so long next time!! XoXo, |/ |/ |/ |/ Jill |/ |/ |/ |/ 


  4. Beautifully written. Lets me know Philip a bit and certainly the love you shared. Thank you for writing and sharing it.
    Sending love to you, especially today.


  5. What a beautiful and moving remembrance. I feel as if I now know him and truly wish I could have known him.
    Much love to you.

    Sent from my iPhone


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