In Honour of Emma Lindley
Emma Lindley is one of those people, whom I know and love, who enrich and sustain my life. She is one of the special ones: those young people whom I’ve known since their childhood, friends of my beloved children, who have become my friends in their adulthood.
For all her sophistication, in the best sense of that word, I think that Emma retained a kind of innocence that touched and beguiled those who, at whatever level, recognised this. It made her able to be responsive, open-hearted and offer a sense of humour not sullied by cynicism. It also contributed, perhaps, to that terrible vulnerability that has caused her to relinquish her very life.
I feel privileged that she shared with me her poetry, a form of literature that we loved and discussed at length. Her work encapsulates, I understand now, however delicately and beautifully crafted, much of the inner pain that she suffered. She is now free of that pain.
This is part of a poem that she wrote in memory of a lost friend:
And so you are not of this planet any more….
But, lone traveller, I cannot believe
That you won’t be in death as you were in life…
Adventuring, exploring, creating and finding mischief.
You must be feeding the universe with your impish magic and deep wisdom
One with such legend in their very being
Cannot simply die and be dead.
Something good must be nourished by your death.
Yes, dear Emma Lindley, for all that we grieve, and for as long as we grieve, and for as long as we live, we should agree with you that that Something good must be nourished by your death.
Beautiful Emma Lindley is one whom I have known and have loved and who has enriched and sustained my life. My heartfelt memory of her will be with me forever, as it will be for all who knew and loved her.