Light A Candle [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Often, when archiving her photographs, Kerri gives them a title. This one she named Delicate. “Like life,” she said.

Today we light a candle. We light them when we are commemorating an anniversary of loss, the passing of someone we love. The light of remembrance. “He’s been gone 31 years,” she sighed as we placed the candle in the jar, touched fire to the wick. Today we remember her big brother Wayne.

Our remembrance is rarely maudlin. We tell stories. We laugh. I’m particularly grateful for this candle-day because I never met Wayne. He was gone years before I arrived on the scene. But I feel as if I knew him because Kerri’s stories of her brother are rich in memory-texture. Visceral. Deeply rooted. And all roads lead to his love of coffee ice cream so I’m certain he and I would have been great pals.

As I’ve written in the past, the first words that Kerri spoke to me were “I don’t do nutshells.” It’s true. If you desire brevity you’ve come to the wrong place. She layers detail on top of detail in her storytelling of the world. And, she assures me that she is nothing compared to her brother, Wayne. His detail of details had details. An engineer’s mind. An inventor’s heart. An epic storyteller.

In the past few weeks we’ve had more than one reminder of life’s fragility. Dear ones wading through sudden, momentous and scary health challenges. A cousin passing. News of a friend too soon gone. More candle-days.

There’s the stereotype, old folks sitting on the porch recollecting days gone by. When I was younger I thought rocking chair reminiscence was inertia, life winding down. Nothing else to do. I had it all wrong. It turns out that elders tell stories of the past because they are verbally lighting a candle. They are keeping alive the memory of someone they loved. They are feeding the river of life. They are passing love forward.

Thirty one years ago. Today we light a candle. Today we tell stories of Wayne.

[a rough iPhone recording of the song Kerri wrote for her brother: You’re The Wind. © 2005 Kerri Sherwood]

read Kerri’s blogpost about WAYNE

[Bonus track]

Angel You Are © 2002 Kerri Sherwood [Note: this song is not jazz nor does Rumblefish own any portion of the copyright or publishing rights of this song]

like it. share it. comment on it. support it. we appreciate it.

Touch An Angel [on KS Friday]

angel you are with photo song box copy

Kerri is thready. Important dates are always noticed and honored in our house. She is nearly Balinese in her attention to auspicious dates. Soon we will honor the life and loss of Wayne. Kerri’s brother Wayne passed away many years before I came into her life. I knew immediately about him. She adored him. He is certainly one of her good angels.

Through her stories and those memories warmly told by her family, I feel he is now one of my kindred spirits, too. Every once in a while, when I need a good bit of brotherly advice, I ask him questions – well, one question in particular (“What am I going to do with your sister?!! She’s out of control!”). He has yet to answer me but like all good angels I do hear him howling with laughter at her antics and my utter confusion.

On this KS Friday, reach for your good angels. Let Kerri’s song for Wayne put you on the back of his bike and take a ride into a special place and time with those you’ve loved and lost. Toast them with a good cup of java, as I do Wayne. From what I hear he was nearly as great a coffee lover as I am.

 

ANGEL YOU ARE on the album AS SURE AS THE SUN available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about ANGEL YOU ARE

 

www.kerrianddavid.com

 

angel you are/as sure as the sun ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood