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The Rossmoor Death Café will meet on Friday, October 10, from 3:30 to 5 p.m. in the Vista Room at the Hillside Clubhouse.
Though not a grief support or therapy group, our Death Café offers a safe place for participants to bring up such end-of-life issues as Advanced Healthcare Directives, how to talk about final plans and wishes with your family, and other late life concerns.
Poems from September's Death Café
When Death Comes
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
- Mary Oliver
Indwelling
Come closer.
This fire will all too soon
be ash.
I would tell you the story the moth knows
for making peace with the night.
The story tears have for making medicine
out of grief.
The story for eliciting the purr
in the belly of the tiger.
If you listen to your blood
you can hear the story of the sea
pulled by the moon
in the open sky
pouring the water of rivers
into your heart.
You can hear the aria
of the wind that the birds
know by heart
singing the story of your body
a hundred generations
in the making.
Come closer:
This is the story that will be yours
long after I have left this place.
….Madronna Holden
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