There are no words that can express what Nammon meant to me or to others who loved her. Nevertheless, it is a testimony to her life that her presence is so strongly felt now, after she has gone. I find myself remembering the sing-song of her voice; the playfulness of her humor; the consistent sunrise of her eyes; and the generosity of her spirit, which led her to take better care of others than she did of herself.
For my friend, I wish peace after long struggle. For her family, I wish the same. To them I offer the following poem, written by the American poet Mary Oliver. I hope that it will comfort them as it has comforted me.
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
from her professor at Dartmouth
Karen M. Gocsik
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