At the same time, assume you write for an audience
consisting solely of terminal patients.
That is, after all, the case."
Annie Dillard
American essayist, b. 1945
When I knew Marv at Notre Dame, he insisted on wearing shorts
for every occasion, even on the coldest day . . .
even mountain climbing in Alaska, he found a way!
He did, however, make an exception for his Santa Claus Costume;
he also wrote excellent letters at Christmas
and knew how to follow the advice of Annie Dillard,
to write as if you were dying:
from Marv's Christmas Letters:
2009
"There's a number of people that I wish lived just around the corner, and you are on that list.
You have been a constant friend, for many years, and I appreciate that. A lot of 'old acquaintances' have been 'forgot' (mostly my fault, I'm sure), but you have remained steadfast. Thank you.
I hope we meet again someday. There are a number of 'lost boys' in Chicago, Indiana, Michigan, Missouri and Ohio who need looking up. Maybe I can make a run through the heartland and catch up with everyone."
2010
"5. Deaths Cheated: My son was medivaced to Anchorage in March; a potentially lethal viral infection; prompt action, by competent doctors, kicked the virus 'right where it hurts.'
6. Friends Taken: None, thank God, and I pray my friend Gary in Afghanistan and my brother in law in Korea both keep their large heads down."
Thanks Marv for these annual missives and for your boundlessly energetic way of being in the world. As my friend Eve (also at Notre Dame during the Marv Years) said, "You expect the lively ones to last the longest and just go on and on!"
But somehow, sadly and ironically, Marv was not able to Cheat Death when it came for him a mere four months after he creatively composed his heartfelt Christmas letter of 2010. For many years now, my people - scape of life on earth has included Marv, up North somewhere meting out justice on the Alaska Supreme Court or maybe keeping his delightful little family afloat on a faraway Pacific Island. How difficult it is to imagine the world any other way.
Friends Taken: One Great Guy.
I couldn't help thinking of this old favorite:
Two Friends
I have something to tell you.
I'm listening.
I'm dying.
I'm sorry to hear.
I'm growing old.
It's terrible.
It is. I thought you should know.
Of course and I'm sorry. Keep in touch.
I will and you too.
And let me know what's new.
Certainly, though it can't be much.
And stay well.
And you too.
And go slow.
And you too.
David Ignatow
American poet, 1914 - 97
From Michael Lipsey:
ReplyDelete"The Man Who Laughs Has Not Yet Been Told The Terrible News." -- Bertolt Brecht
From Carmen: I knew this blog would be great! I love how you express those emotions in an organized way. Kitti,thank you for your insightful thoughts. Loss is such a difficult emotion but powerful in so many ways.
ReplyDeleteFrom Nance E.: Your blog is absolutely beautiful. It was very interesting to see the part about his son cheating death. I couldn’t help thinking that most of us as parents, if given the choice, would rather our children be given a “free card” from a death visit than ourselves. You did a beautiful job with your tribute.
The way I met Marv was by going over to the ND Law School in Summer 1985 to ask Legal Aid for assistance in my divorce. It was straightforward (a youthful mistake) -- no children, no property; so my case was assigned to a 2nd - year student -- that was Marv. As you can imagine he was incredibly helpful and supportive.
ReplyDeleteA year or so later when he was living as a counselor at Dismas Halfway House, I was there for dinner one night, and we all went around the table to say why were there. I said that I was a guest of Marv, and they said how do you know Marv, and I said, he was my attorney. Then one of the Dismas guys asked, "Did he get you out of prison?" And I said, "Kind of."
My friend Joanne shared her story of meeting Marv:
ReplyDeleteI hope I can do this story justice as it happened, because I've never met someone as memorable, in this way, ever since.
In 1988 (roughly,) I was working on my paralegal certification at IUSB, and was more than halfway through the program. One of my last classes was Legal Research and Writing. The professor advised us to familiarize ourselves with the ND Law Library. She wanted us to have the best resources available and indicated that the IUSB library wouldn't even come close to what we would need to be successful with true legal research.
I remember vividly it was a very cold January evening, and this 19 year old girl, still living at home, headed to the library with her mom. I feel the need to explain why my mom tagged along. (I use a wheelchair and am unable to walk at all. We were certain there would be stairs.) So my mom gets me up the first 4 steps outside the building by herself (My mom was much younger at the time, and I was much lighter.) Then we get inside and there are 2 flights of stairs, with about 8 stairs to each flight. We both looked at each other exasperated.
We barely had time to make a decision on what to do next, when through the front door came a guy in a t-shirt, shorts, and sandels. My mom said, "Holy Joe! Aren't you freezing? I'm cold just looking at you." He chuckled and said, "No, but can I help you in anyway?" So pretty soon, my mom and "this stranger" are helping me up the stairs. He was making really lighthearted, funny comments the entire time.
We make it to the very top, and after he and my mom catch their breath, we make our introductions. He inquired as to why I'm there and I explain. He tells me to come find him in a certain area when we're ready to leave because he wants to help us back down. I thought, "Boy is this guy a glutton for punishment, or what?" Then before he even goes to the area he said we could find him, he asks, "Do you need any help with your research?" Well, I'm no dummy, so I say, "That would be great." He pretty much ends up doing the assignment, but is explaining everything as he goes along.
Then he proceeds to write his name and a phone number directly on my assignment (to Legal Aid) in case I need any help with this class or others in the future. I didn't have the words at that moment to say, "No don't write on that, I have to turn that in." So the 3 of us make our way back downstairs, and Marv makes more funny comments. I, of course, take him up on his offer to help with other papers a few times. Thank goodness there turned out to be an alternative back way into the library which bypassed the stairs. I believe we would not have established any type of friendship if it hinged on Marv schlepping me up all those stairs every time we met. So from that point on, we kept in touch as I'm sure you did, with postcards and letters.
That was Marv -- a gentleman and a scholar!