bryanjazz

(photo by DJ Markey)

My cousin Ursula died on December 22, 2008. More than a close relative, she was my mutually self-proclaimed godmother, both my guide and my confidante...my best friend.

She was my rock to lean on, my compass in navigating through the sea of life.

As I began to capture them in words, those were the thoughts that prompted the flow of emotions.

How does one travel the sea without a compass?

Ursula & Iman (my godson)...or Imri, his twin. :)More than any other person in the world, Ursula "understood" who I am and loved me for me. I am reminded of that common teenage concern - "no one understands me!" - as I reflect on how, when I was a teenager,  she was the first person I ever "came out to". Though I had no doubt of her acceptance, I remember how nervous and anxiety-ridden I was -- to speak my truth to another person. Her acceptance, nurturing and support before and since that moment have been not only invaluable, but integral to who I am as a person.  The best parts of me have been informed by the love and wisdom she shared with me. I am truly fortunate to have experienced and learned the meaning of unconditional love.

At times like these, the words I often turn to that help to shape my experience are from Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran's The Prophet, a book that Ursula also appreciated. In the section "On Death", the prophet speaks (excerpt):

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open you heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams,
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Dreaming (photo by DJ Markey)Ursula's heart was open so wide to the body of life, and to the lives of others. Her years of working...her many years of pouring her soul and being into advocacy for families of children with disabilities, and especially those in underserved communities is known throughout the country. At the same time, she had a deep reservoir from which she gave so much to family and friends, who's lives and souls she could touch with just a word or two, a poignant joke or a timely smile (she had a legendary sense of humor). And through it all she was constantly dreaming...always speaking of possibilities...of what could be created tomorrow. Is that not what life is about?Ursula & son, Teiko, "We just voted Obama"

But it is not death most on my mind as I settle into the new year, but friendship. For I have lost my oldest and dearest friend...one who has known me my entire life...through all that the body of life has shown me. She was the person I could tell anything to, and indeed, proceeded to do so. And she, in turn, shared so much with me. I am happy that several of the people in many aspects of my life got a chance to meet her, and that she got to view more of me by meeting them.

Ursula and son, Duane (d. 1998)She was loved, treasured and valued by so many people from all walks of life. Many appreciated how she had the ability to know the essence of you, that highest part of your self; and to show it to you...reflect it back to you, for you both to behold and see the beauty. It was a gift she naturally and effortlessly gave to those she called "friend." And no matter how one came to know her, whether through family, work, community or life, at the basis of her closest relationships, she was a friend. "On Friendship" the prophet speaks (excerpt):

When your friend speaks his mind
you fear not the "nay" in your own mind,
nor do you with hold the "aye."
And when he is silent
your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts,
all desires, all expectations are born and shared,
with joy that is unclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not,
For that which you love most in him
may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain
to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship
save the deepening of the spirit.

...

For what is your friend
that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need,
but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship
let there be laughter,
and the sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things
the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Chillin' at JazzFest: Jamila, Ursula & BryanIt is this deepening of spirit that I will sorely miss...shared desires and expectations...unclaimed joy. I have long believed that at the heart of great friendship is the "dew of little things." The sharing of the small pleasures that weave into the moments of life. Those are the things that combine with moments of laughter and accumulate to then cause that smile that emerges on your face as you look down the street and you see that it is your friend that is approaching. Whether it was our shared love of food, or music; or the fact that Ursula and I had the same favorite color (purple); or the sharing of cooking tips and secrets; hearing about her famous finds on ebay; our watching infomercials together (LOL); or the fact that we both, understandably, remove our glasses before eating (either you just get this...or you don't, LOL)...it is these little things, thrown in with the the more dramatic lows and highs of life, that form the spices that enhance the flavor of great friendships. Which then cause you to "seek him with hours to live."

Om Supreme California: Ursula and husband, Dempsey "DJ" (photo by B. Glover)I cannot yet say that I grieve not. When the parting at first seemed so unfathomable, I wondered how this next part of my journey would be without her. And yet, as I continue to feel her presence, as I remember all that she has given me, and still does, my heavy heart is somewhat lightened. For this loss is far outweighed by all that I have gained through being fortunate enough to have known and loved Ursula Arceneaux Markey...to have had her in my life.

So perhaps, like the climber who sees a mountain he knows he can no longer climb, I can begin to appreciate Ursula's majesty from a distance. And perhaps, with her constancy in my field of vision, I will be able to construct a compass with which to navigate this sea of life.

Ache

(for more on Ursula, see this article from the Times-Picayune.)