. . ."To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."
Mary Oliver
At noon on June 25, 2002, I let Beckett go. He left his frail and
failing body behind the same way that he had lived - with speed, grace, and dignity,
as any Greyhound would have wished. The only way I can picture him now is running and
leaping, whole and happy, with the same abandon and joy with which he lived each day.
To Suzanne Clothier and Marnie Reeder, I extend my deepest thanks. Each of them loved
Beckett, too, and each in their own way made sacrifices that made it possible for Beckett to
be in my life. You each know what you did, and what it cost you. Maybe you do not
know how deep and rich and unending a gift I received through your actions.
There are a thousand words to describe Beckett, and no words that will do.
He was the most unusual spirit to ever grace my life. I am thankful for him.
He taught me much, and I am better for having known him.
Rest well, Beckett. Run swiftly. I see you everywhere, in everything, and you are still
beautiful.