Saying goodbye to a wonderful teacher and a dear friend

Some people come into your life and stay there for a lifetime. They are sent to you by God, for a reason. They are generous people--with their time, their patience, their kindness, and their encouragement. They touch your life and change it forever, settling as they do into your heart. If you are so lucky to know such a person, you know that you have been blessed. I honor such a person today--my high school English teacher Brendan (born in Ireland) who noticed the quiet reserved student, and who encouraged her to write poetry. He died yesterday, after a long illness. We had corresponded on and off during the past forty years, mostly during the past decade after our high school reunion in 2009. And of course we connected on Facebook along with everyone else. But gradually there were less and less emails as his illness robbed him of the abilities to walk and to use his hands to write. But the desire to share a poem with me, or vice versa, was always there. Our mutual interest in all things poetic was in itself, poetic. It's not everyday you find someone with whom you can discuss poetry. I will miss that about him, and so much more. He made room for people in his life, and I see from the condolences on his Facebook wall that those many people remember him now. Many of them feel the same way about him as I do, for different reasons. He brought out the best in everyone. He left this world on the same day, January 17th, as the well-known American poet, Mary Oliver, whose poems we both liked. I am sure he has found his home in heaven now. I'd like to think that he and my father, who also loved all things literary, will find a moment together to share and discuss a favorite poem or two should they meet. I hope they do.

There is a poem I wrote when I returned from my first visit to Ireland in 2011, a poem that he really liked. He was thrilled to hear at that time that I had finally gotten to Ireland. I include the poem here. Rest in peace, my dear friend. Fear, dread, and death no longer have any power over you.

In the Shadows of Giants

I walk in the shadows of giants
Stand in the splendor of kings
Mute in the presence of tyrants
Lost in the halls that sing

I roam the passage that beckons
Ancient the call that keens
Lithe is the fairy that reckons
Spirit remains unseen

I fly in the temple of sinners
Eat at the tables of saints
Join with the forces of winners
Scarce are the jabs and the feints

I reel in the smoke of the fire
That burns in the halls of the kings
Fly in the face of ire
Sail with the lords of the rings

I forage the future of time
Divine with the rod of the druids
All things about me sublime
All things about me are fluid

I stand in the shadows of giants
Walk in the presence of lights
Far out upon the horizon
Dancing about me like sprites

I speak in the tongues of the ancients
Keen with the songs of the dead
Free my soul from the dungeons
Of fear, of death, and of dread

Copyright 2011 Paula Mary De Angelis