The Death of A Violinist

Multās per gentēs et multa per aequora vectus
adveniō hās miserās, frāter, ad īnferiās,
ut tē postrēmō dōnārem mūnere mortis
et mūtam nēquīquam alloquerer cinerem,
quandoquidem fortūna mihī tētē abstulit ipsum.
heu miser indignē frāter adēmpte mihi,
nunc tamen intereā haec, prīscō quae mōre parentum
trādita sunt trīstī mūnere ad īnferiās,
accipe frāternō multum mānantia flētū,
atque in perpetuum, frāter, avē atque valē.

Catulus 101

A note died in my ear here at your ... funeral.


I need to call it that, even if the program here says celebration.


A note died in my ear today. My left ear. A tone hummed to a singular pitch.


This note held itself there sharp and clear with a direct line to my brain, then died, as that tiny hair in my cochlear sang its last song, and hummed out forever.


A note died in my ear today, while I cried through that recording of your Orchestral performance.


Here while I cried while H intones, tearful but clear, and with entendre to spare, that he cannot imagine his life without you... and I cried.


A note died in my ear. A single hair, a tone, and I hear the celebrant say "that his music spoke for him" as a way of explaining your few words.... I remember your small mouth. H and I had so many for that whole trip, I was positively bursting with them every time we stopped for some Harak and a taste of the local thing. A small mouth and few words.


I regret that you took to the back seat of the car, that you weren't there with H in the passenger seat next to him. I promise I'll be a great friend to him in your absence. I promise you that. I also promise to live up to the memory of the love that S described in her letter. Those heroic qualities that I barely saw in you -- that you "loved enough to forgive." I will do this in memory of you because a note died in my ear this day.


---The ocean! Oh, the Ocean. I didn't even know that we shared that. The great silences of the ocean. I will remember you in the ocean. I will remember it for you. I will be there with it, and i will see my own soul and yours in its passions and its silences. And I will cry salty tears into it for you.


I will regret thinking you cheap, rather than frugal. I will try to do this of others too, and not let my generosity be a lever for my anger and resentment. I will be better to people in this way, in memory of you.


A note died in my ear today. I will never hear that tone again, but i will do all these things in memory of you.

frāter, avē atque valē.