Suddenly Gone

What kind of man was K.J. Moran,
who passed away suddenly last night?
The kind who brought, with another
friend, a bottle of something sweet
and strong for me to sip between
rehearsal scenes just weeks after
my son's death. Who picked us up
and took us to a show a month or so
later, to get us out of the house.
He was a husband, father, friend,
fencing instructor, actor, writer,
good at so many things. But it is
his kindness I remember most,
those years ago.

A shock, blow to the gut,
the rug pulled out from underneath
your feet, raw anguish of a friend
who calls to tell you of a death
so sudden that it takes your breath
away. Younger, healthier, you thought,
so full of life and now he's gone.
No preparation for such moments.
On second thought, I take that back -
there is. In every happy memory,
the scenes on stage, the time he missed
his cue and we were left to cover
and then all the times of teasing
after, toasting to good times, his joy
at watching those he loved do well.
Those things flood back and while
they can't erase the pain of loss,
the suddenness with which he's gone,
they'll ease the days ahead. I hope this
most for those who knew him best,
because although the stockpile of
these thoughts are more for them,
a lifetime filled with making others'
lives much richer, their grief is
also deeper, sharper, cutting like
the sword he held so skillfully.



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015