A Pause for Marsha

 I'm taking a pause from my "Thank you, Asia" series to share a poem about a special friend of mine who died from a fatal car accident April 19, 1989 just one month before our graduation from Luther College.  Marsha, Wendy, and I were roommates and best friends for four years.  Here is a poem honoring Marsha's memory.

To Marsha

In Life your Spirit was big and strong and vibrant

pushing boundaries of a twenty-two year old form

challenging the body with 4:30 AM piano practice

talking about the body with young ladies 

impressionable to self-harm and starvation.

Your body worked hard

reading, studying, writing, applying to Master’s programs

but played hard too

spending time with close friends and lovers

laughing, drinking it in, leaving the rest of us in awe

at just how much could be sucked

out of the marrow of life in a single moment. 

Death came and wrestled Life out of you

On an April evening on a curve of a road

you’d travelled hundreds of times before. 

The moment of impact claimed all that was

left of living, breathing consciousness.

By morning the one known as Marsha Jan Behrend 

was gone.

In the days and weeks that followed

All signs of your earthly life were gathered up-

Removed - buried. 

Those were dark, dark days when I would stare 

in a morning mirror and say to a stunned reflection,

“Marsha is dead.”

It took a long, long time to believe it. 

Christ’s resurrection finally made sense

as I came to know you as resurrected Spirit

accompanying me and comforting me 

on my very first trip abroad to France.

There, I knew I was never actually alone

I felt your presence, spoke to you,

received replies. 

You hovered ever near during my first year at MHS.

When Tracy, a student, died in a tragic accident

I carried double pain in my heart

the lesson that life also means death

drilled into my heart until it emerged elsewhere

Free and Light.

The difficult lesson learned, 

I have lived my life in awe of its transience.  

I’ve found it to be a precious gift - 

like a Tibetan mandala or Japanese paper wall-

something to relish in the beauty of it now, now

ever Now

because Now is what is real and here for us

and Body and Form are these mysterious

ever-changing vessels that move us,

bear children, sag and age, sicken, heal,

Creak and groan, all the while teaching us

Love and Compassion.

April 19, 2019

Wendy and me in 2019