Among the dark verses of Martin Carter's "The Discovery of Companion" is the following one, which presents a startling look at how time can be measured--in the finite "stretch of years," or in an ominous-sounding infinite night.
While time is measured in the stretch of years
night can be measureless.
The veinless womb of darkness breeds a bird,
the flying child of fear or curse or blessing
to soar in the blue gables of the world’s imprisonment.
And this too is companion
mother of life and motion.
Strangely enough, I found comfort in it as I sat down to reflect on the recent sudden passing of my sister. The lines reminded me that though she left us so abruptly and too soon, we have rich stretches of years from which we can choose how we measure our time spent with her.
Some of us have the stretch of college years--of lectures, assignments, parties, and arguments. Some of us have the stretch of years playing like tennis pros--of jubilation, of defeat, of feeling fit and looking good in tiny tennis skirts. Some of us have the stretch of office life--of hard work and accomplishments, of feeling close enough to confide deep secrets. Some of us have the stretch of life-long friendship--of laughter, of tears, of trusted companionship. Some of us have the stretch of family bond--of loving, growing, and changing together, and of being there through it all.
But now we must end our measuring
of time spent with her in the here and now
and move to another reality--
one where time is measured in clips of memory
and there is pain in the transition...
But we know
we have been truly blessed to have shared our lives with her
and we rejoice!
