I’m trying to write something coherent about guns, and a nice shiny new book thread for you, but I’m finding it quite hard.
I keep thinking of those poor people in that cinema, and the terror of their last moments, and the sheer fucking stupidity of it all, none of which is conducive to much besides going back to bed with the dog and a quart of gin. In lieu of those posts for now, then, I offer you some music.
First, the Doves with There Goes the Fear. A few years ago, a young friend of mine died of ovarian cancer. It was horribly quick, and it wasn’t very pleasant for all concerned.
Kathleen was a bright burning spark of a woman, yet she was possessed always of a serenity, a calm inner spirit that soothed anyone who came into contact with her. She had an odd, gentle beauty coupled together with … how shall I put it? … a ribald huskiness and a brazen-cool-50s-brunette languor. She drives me even now to hyperbole.
She loved to dance – usually in dark rooms with bright lights – and it was a moment of joy to catch her eye across a crowded dancefloor as she danced with entirely unconscious grace. At 10am on the morning after the night before, when spirits were starting to flag and someone was on the phone trying to rustle up more drugs, Kath would emerge from the kitchen bearing a tray of breakfast cocktails that would put everyone on their arse smiling like an idiot until the coke turned up.
After her chemotherapy had robbed her of her hair, she strode around the office like Ripley in pursuit of a particularly bothersome facehugger. She fought her cancer every day and cracked jokes all the while. She had many days and moments of pure happiness in that last year, not least at her wedding – a bittersweet day if ever there were one.
And yet she died, as so many do, and I still miss her every day.
This song was played at her funeral, one last smiling “fuck you” to the pain and the terror. It makes me feel a little better on days like this.
Second, The Aikiu with Pieces of Gold. Possibly NSFW for graphically implied sexual content, but it would have made Kath laugh like a drain, and the song is very pretty.
Finally, because Kath would be angry if I didn’t pop this one on on a Friday night, The Return with New Day.
That, my dears, may be all I have for you tonight. I’m off to discover what a gimlet made with grapefruit gin tastes like, so I may be some time, but let me know if you have anything I should be listening to.
[Edited slightly for clarity after posting.]
Yutsano
Hugz dear. Just hugz.
Gravenstone
Cancer sucks, whatever its guise or form. Whether we win or lose our individual battles with it. My condolences on the passing of your friend, and thank you for celebrating her life and spirit.
ChrisNYC
Lovely post. Really lovely.
Formica
This.
This post is why I come here.
This post is why I enjoy the fake old lady.
This post is human.
chrome agnomen
you’re a treasure.
electricgrendel
I really hope you write professionally. You have an elegant, engaging turn of phrase. Your friend was lucky to have you, and you lucky to have her. Sorry for your loss, no matter how far receded. Cancer sucks.
jl
Thanks Sarah.
Here’s a little ditty in memory of your friend.
Ah how pleasant ’tis to love.
youtu.be/opThghjRrnQ
A little racy for the Balloon Juice crowd, hope it don’t debauch them.
Sarah, Proud and Tall
Thankyou. You’re all very kind.
@jl:
That’s just lovely. Thankyou.
kindness
My condolences Sarah. I’m sorry, I just found out about your loss. Poignant especially on a day like today. In my way of thinking, Kathleen dropped her body, but not her essence. That still exists.
I had a similar adventure. Almost 15 years ago my partner was found to have breast cancer. It sucked, chemo & all. She made it though and I couldn’t be happier as I still get to see her dancing across the concert halls & festivals.
You Sarah are richer for having had Kathleen in your life and I hope you get to thank her….many, many years from now. Have a sweet weekend now, won’t you?
I'mNotSureWhoIWantToBeYet
A beautiful tribute Sarah. Thank you.
Cheers,
Scott.
wormtown
F*ck ovarian cancer. Know 4 people with it.
Hill Dweller
This was a beautiful post, Sarah.
SiubhanDuinne
SP&T: What everyone else has said. A beautiful tribute to your friend Kathleen, and to all of the Aurora victims. You are a treasure, and John Cole guaranteed himself a spot in Paradise by inviting you to front page.
Older
My daughter died ten years ago of ovarian cancer, after a hard four years of fighting it. And then the family fell apart. You know how sometimes it’s one person, and not necessarily the one you think it is, that holds a family together?
Well, it was Becky. Shine on you crazy diamond.
Eljai
Thank you for that, Sarah. My sister died of ovarian cancer 13 years ago. She had a wicked sense of humor, a quick wit, a gargantuan vocabulary and she kicked my ass on more than one occasion. Damn, I miss her.
SarahT
I am so so sorry about your friend. Doves are one of my faves – perfect perfect choice.
dlurk
You know, I read this blog every day, and have for nearly half a decade, but nothing has every made me push myself to write in until this. Such a lovely tribute; it made me grieve for your loss, and sad not to have known her. And then that damn Doves song. Just, thanks.
SarahT
I am so so sorry about your friend. Please forgive if this is a double posting. Just really had to tell you I am sorry, & Doves are a perfect choice – they’ve seen me through many rough times. Good thoughts to yoU & yours, & listening to the Doves WILL help.
Origuy
We lost Michael from my Scottish dance class to a brain tumor a few weeks ago. He’d only been dancing a few years, but had gotten good enough to go on stage with the local performance group. At the wake, four Highland dancers did a sword dance with his fencing sabre, shinty stick, and two regular swords. Then the performance group and our class each did a set of dances; in between we got the others in attendance to dance with us.
He was only 29.
Nethead Jay
Outstanding remembrance, Sarah. And yeah, fuck you to all cancers.
LanceThruster
It’a amazing to me what I reveal about myself when driven to tears of sadness that also make me feel glad to be human.
Much love, all.