Reflections on loss, grief, mortality, remembrance, and honoring the lives of those who have shaped us. These essays consider both personal experiences and broader questions about memory and legacy. Focused on the deaths of Margaret Mary Geib, Trudy Rideout, and David Willis Geib, among others.
It must have been sometime during the summer of 2017. I was driving south on the 5 Freeway through Camp Pendleton on my way to San Diego to visit a college friend I had not seen for years. I remember it was during the summer. Beyond that the exact details are blurry. But I remember … Read more
Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death. It has been 29 years to the day since she died. Every Halloween when neighborhood children go house to house to get candy, I sit at home and mourn the loss of my mother. It happened almost three decades ago, so the wound is not new. But … Read more
“Are you looking for Father David?” No, I am looking for my Uncle Bill. This was the response I always gave to that question, although I never said it out loud. My Uncle Bill was known as “Father David” in his religious order, the Dominicans. They were his religious “family,” and when he was ordained … Read more
My father ages, slowly but surely. Next week he turns 84-years old. The changes in his physical health, and the decline in his critical faculties, are glacial. But they are also cumulative. Like a glacier wearing down a rock formation over millions of years, one does not notice much in the short-term. But zoom back … Read more
I read that the blogger Heather Armstrong died yesterday. Struggling with depression and alcoholism, she committed suicide. Heather was 48 years old. She left behind two teenage daughters, 19-year-old Leta and 13-year-old Marlo. Yikes. Many women claim that Armstrong helped to bring about the “warts and all” style of oversharing of Internet writing in the … Read more
I talk about abortion with my high school students, or about the losses on Civil War battlefields, or the movie Wit about John Donne’s poetry and the process of getting sick and dying. I watch my students very closely for their reactions to human tragedy: the dying of a sick toddler, the casualty of a … Read more
It is that time of the year, and one way or another I always feel the approach of these dates: October 6th, yesterday, the 2nd anniversary of the death of my stepmother; and October 31st, the day my mother died almost 26 years ago. Fateful anniversaries they are, and I feel them. It does not … Read more
I read of the death of the author Norah Vincent last week. It was unusual in that she actually died in early July of this year, but the news of her passing was released only a few weeks ago. I enjoyed Norah’s work earlier in this century. She was a lesbian tending towards the libertarian … Read more
My grandma, Margaret (“Peg”) Harriet Sullivan Geib, died when she was 77-years old. Her husband, Phillip James Geib, my grandfather, died at 90-years of age. Their deaths could not have been more different. My grandma was ready to go. I remember her telling me around 1977 or so that she had little interest in the … Read more
I had occasion lately to come across a posting of mine from January 15, 2007. It is titled, “The Past Is Not Done With Me.” That would make the essay over fourteen years old. I was 39-years old when I penned it, and now I am 53-years old. What is the difference between those two … Read more
Trudy Rideout went home to her maker today. She died at 1:30 pm on Tuesday October 6, 2020. This ends a life that started on March 11, 1940 in Chicago, Illinois. Trudy was my stepmother, a much maligned family role in our popular culture. The negative trope in society is the sullen teenaged girl resentful … Read more
Dear Mom, Hello. It is the 23rd anniversary of your death, and your husband and I visited your grave to pay our respects and leave flowers for you. It was a beautiful day, this October 31, 2019. Although you died at 56-years of age — decades before you should have — your peers are beginning … Read more
I did not have a good feeling about this tennis match. We were playing a men’s 4.5 USTA doubles league match against Ojai and they were always a solid squad. The competition would consist of three lines of doubles teams, and whoever won at least two out of the three is the winner. They had … Read more
I had occasion today to watch the famous scene in the movie Philadelphia where Tom Hanks listens to Maria Callas sing the “La Mamma Morta” aria from Umberto Giordano’s opera Andrea Chénier. The character Hanks plays — “Andrew Beckett” — is dying of AIDS, pulling his IV pole around the room, as he encounters Callas … Read more
“Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men.” Quintus Ennius 21 years, mom. 21 years ago you died. At first, of course, it hurt worse since the wound was fresh. But now it hurts in a … Read more
Flowers left on Margaret Mary Geib’s grave on October 31, 2016 by Richard John Geib. Twenty years, mom. Twenty years ago today you died. Your body eaten up by cancer like an old fence eaten up by termites. Twenty years is a long time. You have missed the weddings of your children and the births … Read more
MOTHER AND SON: 19 YEARS AND COUNTING Children think their parents know all the answers. Their parents are pillars of rock to which they can tether themselves in the storms of youth. When all falls to the ground in seeming ruin, parents still stand tall. It gives them comfort. It makes them feel safe. I … Read more