Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Felipe Gottheil, my talented musician grandson,
died unexpectedly September 25, 2010, age 18, of pulmonory edema.
His death was in his DNA. We never knew.


He lies there, so pale,
a gentle smile on his lips,
eyes closed as if asleep,
His body is covered to the chin
in huge lace ruffles
and in the corner the lustrous top of the coffin,
waiting.

The stricken faces of his two younger brothers,
the tears of Mariana, his mother,
as she leans over her eldest son, her hand caressing
his face, his hair.
Her voice whispers loving words in those ears,
now unhearing forever.

The moment has arrived for us to leave for the cemetery.
His mother covers Felipe’s face
with her own, murmuring softly,
pressing her cheek to his,
until she realizes she must withdraw.

I go to look at him one last time,
at this grandson so special, so intelligent, so creative,
gifted in music, in art.
Two tears shine under his eye
and it is as if Felipe is mourning with us, for our sorrow
at losing him,
crying with the tears lent him
by his grieving mother.

Sue--

I don't know the words,
and so I groan and hope and share the only language I know:

We know not what we should pray for as we ought:
but the Spirit maketh intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.

Peace/la Paz

Thank you for your words of comfort, Joel. And thank you, Wait, for that beautiful poem. I only wish Felipe's mother could read English, I would share it with her. Sue