Tribute to the Cavalry
Come tighten your girth and slacken your rein
Come buckle your blanket and holster again
Try the click of your trigger and balance your blade
For he must ride sure, that goes riding a raid.
---Anonymous, Cobb's Legion, 1863
Kenn and I were married for 18 years. He died New Year's Day 2003. Since the first cancer
diagnosis in 1997, we both knew his time was probably limited. When the diagnosis came back as metastatic bladder cancer in
November 2002, we were certain his time was limited.
All those writers who described the death of a loved one as a feeling of hollowness inside one's
body are very much correct. There is also numbness, and thoughts that bring tears whether one wants to cry or not. I would
add a feeling of brittleness when one reaches the brink of exhaustion. But there is also strength that comes from remembering,
and laughter that recalls the good things. I can't go through the rest of my life crying, so I laugh instead. Otherwise, the
depression wins, and I can't have that -- I have a child to raise.
For those who have recordings of it, in his honor, please play "The Black Velvet Band" once or
twice, sip some fine Scotch, and remember your own times with him. If you lack that song, anything by the Chieftains would
be a more than suitable replacement.
Those not of a Celtic bent in their musical tastes can spin "Purple Haze" instead -- and remember
to crank it.
For those who were his colleagues when he died, getting
the CSI posting made him feel honored. He loved the work, and was very grateful that he was entrusted with such a task. I
thank you all for so honoring him.
