Think how much your life has changed in the past two years. What were you doing then and what was important to you? Two years ago seems both like yesterday and forever ago. Two years ago today, on 4 May, Ron moved on to another form of existence, yet so much of him remains with us.
I could write for weeks, but today means something different to everyone who knew Ron, so my personal reflection won’t be interesting. Instead, I’ll let you know that Common Ground is Celebrating Ron Miller at a restaurant in Deerfield, IL on May 19th. I also want to share a poem that Ron found particularly insightful and one that gave me a lot of insight two years ago as well. It is from Rumi, the 13th century Sufi mystic.
On the day I die, when I’m being
Carried toward the grave, don’t weep.
Don’t say, “He’s gone”, “He’s gone.”
Death has nothing to do with going away.
The sun sets and the moon sets,
But they’re not gone. Death
Is a coming together.
The tomb looks like a prison
But it’s really release into Union.
Your mouth closes here
And immediately opens
With a shout of joy there.
(Note: I have seen several translations of this same poem, but this is the one my dad casually emailed to me when he mentioned that he’d like it read at the “final” celebration of his life someday. And it was.)