Suzanne holds the mirror, And you want to travel with her, And you want to travel blind, And you know that you can trust her, For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

January 29, 2011


The sun came up again today.

It just keeps doing that, no matter how much pain we're in.

Amazing.






I don't even know how to begin to describe Kathryn's memorial service.

Beautiful.

Loving.

Celebratory.

Closure.

Release.

Heartwrenching.

And while all of this is certainly true, there really are no words to describe what happened during the standing room only gathering of family and friends who were there because they knew and loved Kathryn and Jerry or because they knew and loved members of either family, but maybe not Kat or Jer.

Absolutely astounding.

Jerry was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who attended.

We sat together in the front and held the same pose throughout the service: together, hands clasped, my arm around his shaking shoulders.

Our cousin, who married Jer and Kat eleven years ago conducted the memorial service, providing strength we didn't have and solace we desperately needed.

Cousins are great.

Mer and Em put together a collection of photos, including ones of Jer and Kat's wedding and of a trip to our cousin Kelly's.

Having Kelly and Aurora's watch over us only made the family circle more complete.

In addition to all the family members who wanted to be there and couldn't. . .our Aunt Pat, Aunt Zita, Great Aunt Edna, cousins and cousins and more cousins. . . .

Weather, however, cannot stem the swelling tides of love that transcends all storms and borders and distances.

We felt our cousin Kathy's love, along with her daughter's, Kajsa from Sweden.

Mum and Dad were side by side at the end of the row, like sentries preventing us slipping off the chairs and into who knows where.

Stephen was on my other side, and probably has bruises today from my clutching his hand, needing him to hold me to reality.

The girls were directly behind us, Em passing tissues and putting her arms around us from behind, Mer to reach out and comfort Jer in the short time I had to leave him to do my reading.

Keith manned the music, hiding behind the console and flowers, keeping his grief to himself.

I'm waiting for when he is finally able to let his guard down.

And I'll be there when it does.






How Jer was able to put together such a beautiful service in the midst of the unbearable pain and grief he was experiencing astonishes me.

He had her favourite songs played, 9,000 Days, My Beloved Wife, Ophelia, Everybody Hurts. . . .

Each one a connection to a piece of Kat and Jer.






Afterwards, people surrounded Jer to share their love and pain with him. 

He is still marveling at how loved Kat was by everyone who knew her.






Stephen, me, Kat's best friend Lorraine and the kids sat in front of the food and wine and talked until around 7.00 pm when the box of wine was empty and Mer and Keith a little wobbly.

Lorraine knew so much about Kat that we didn't.

Had memories we needed to hear.

We even laughed.

A lot.

And then we cried some more and wondered how we were going to get through the next days, knowing we would, somehow.

We have no choice.

It will happen whether we want it to or not, whether we're ready or not.

Life does go on.

And there's too much evidence to deny that.



Title Lyric: Suzanne by Leonard Cohen