Eulogy for my Brother

by

Martin Higgins

Paddy, I'm just a storyteller, I know little of death,

Though I've seen its work and felt its breath on my face.

But you know that by now, Brother.

How this life is all a show,

Made of so many acts and so many characters

And far too few happy endings.

I'm stumbling across that stage today trying to remember my lines,

Hit my marks. But all the while, I'm playing to the gallery,

Looking for that one bright face,

A laugh caught in my throat, as tears burn my eyes.

Now we have some difficult lines, trying times,

As the story moves on,

Beneath a tin roof, beside an old tree, or under a gold and rose sky,

That says years, and means ages, but is endless and magnificent.

Like you.

Paddy, when you made your exit and walked from this stage,

The Light shining back through the doorway

Fell like truth in our lives.

Harsh and alarming, yet honest and clear.

For we saw... 

That the tin roof was no more than cardboard,

And the old tree -- a bundle of sticks,

And our wide-open sky -- a dog-eared postcard from nowhere,

And the theater -- just boards and a chair.

So, now we stand, speechless, awaiting our cue,

Looking down to find our marks, empty, aching,

Wanting no more than to wake from this tremulous nightmare.

To the sound of your big laugh.

You! 

Standing fearless and bold.

And, blessed with one more chance to hold you,

We’d tell you we loved you.  We love you.

But the Light is gone and we are changed,

The story changed,

And the audience sits

Waiting for the rest of their show.

I will never forget who you were

And why I love you.

Copyright ©1998

Martin Higgins

all rights reserved