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Let me tell you about Earl Cooley III
Earl Cooley III went Ahead March 20, 2018.
Sometimes you need to speak about a friendship. I want to tell you about me and Earl Cooley III.
Earl and I knew about each other casually for many years, hailing each other in the halls at ArmadilloCon or at a holiday party. We really got on each other's radar when I started reading his poetry online, and he found a sample of my fantasy when I joined a Clarion write-a-thon to raise money for scholarships. He endeared himself by the simple statement of something along the lines of "Oh, I didn't know about these. This is something special." He was looking at a sample of my third NIGHT CALLS book, which was what I was working on for the sponsored challenge.
Some days you just have to trust that people move into your orbit when the time is right.
And without ever discussing it, Earl and I moved each other into the "special people" category. I didn't know he'd done that, not until the last months of his life. I just knew that he brightened my day in social media, shared his sharp eye on the world through his own poetry and comments, through the poets he introduced me to and the articles he shared. He made me aware of how bad the coming housing crunch would be years before it hit the public's radar. I knew why I was having trouble with housing--when I realized why he was having trouble with housing, I added "ADA bathrooms, entries, and halls" to my house wish list. Because I already had more than one friend working with a chair or a walker. I wanted everyone able to come to my home.
But Earl rarely spoke to me about his health challenges. I still don't know if they were a bad draw of the health card, an accident, or a curious gift from the christening fairies. I just watched the progression until the moment he told us he was moving west to be closer to family, and I knew this meant that with my own challenges, if we didn't see each other at Armadillocon this year, we might not see each other again.
I don't know who Earl was with other people--we never truly know that about others. But I know that with me he was a kind, encouraging man who shared all the things he thought it important for his friends to know to circumnavigate life. He took time to write things to both wake people up and nourish their souls. He was an example of how to matter-of-factly share health news without either dwelling on it or ignoring it.
In the end I was stunned and humbled when he trusted me with the secret that there was nothing else that could be done, that trying intervention had nearly killed him, and now it was just staying comfortable and alert. The night he died a group of us were working on ideas for a fundraiser or Patreon to pay for medications he needed (but of course were not covered). He never gave up on the value of life with his friends and family.
I wish I could have convinced him to let us do a book of his poetry, but I know that when you are desperately ill, pulling your thoughts and work together seems like Mount Everest. So we will need to carry his bard's tales with us, the witnesses to his life.
My beliefs tell me that we go around more than once, because there is too much to learn and experience in one lifetime. I think we've known each other more than once, and I look forward to seeing Earl at the next campfire, to hear everyone's tales of this life, before we all take the next step, whatever it may be.
Safe journey, Earl. May the path be smooth and filled with wonders. See you on the other side.
Some of Earl's poetry can be found here--
https://shiva7663.deviantart.com/gallery/
http://www.writerscafe.org/tantivy7663
Sometimes you need to speak about a friendship. I want to tell you about me and Earl Cooley III.
Earl and I knew about each other casually for many years, hailing each other in the halls at ArmadilloCon or at a holiday party. We really got on each other's radar when I started reading his poetry online, and he found a sample of my fantasy when I joined a Clarion write-a-thon to raise money for scholarships. He endeared himself by the simple statement of something along the lines of "Oh, I didn't know about these. This is something special." He was looking at a sample of my third NIGHT CALLS book, which was what I was working on for the sponsored challenge.
Some days you just have to trust that people move into your orbit when the time is right.
And without ever discussing it, Earl and I moved each other into the "special people" category. I didn't know he'd done that, not until the last months of his life. I just knew that he brightened my day in social media, shared his sharp eye on the world through his own poetry and comments, through the poets he introduced me to and the articles he shared. He made me aware of how bad the coming housing crunch would be years before it hit the public's radar. I knew why I was having trouble with housing--when I realized why he was having trouble with housing, I added "ADA bathrooms, entries, and halls" to my house wish list. Because I already had more than one friend working with a chair or a walker. I wanted everyone able to come to my home.
But Earl rarely spoke to me about his health challenges. I still don't know if they were a bad draw of the health card, an accident, or a curious gift from the christening fairies. I just watched the progression until the moment he told us he was moving west to be closer to family, and I knew this meant that with my own challenges, if we didn't see each other at Armadillocon this year, we might not see each other again.
I don't know who Earl was with other people--we never truly know that about others. But I know that with me he was a kind, encouraging man who shared all the things he thought it important for his friends to know to circumnavigate life. He took time to write things to both wake people up and nourish their souls. He was an example of how to matter-of-factly share health news without either dwelling on it or ignoring it.
In the end I was stunned and humbled when he trusted me with the secret that there was nothing else that could be done, that trying intervention had nearly killed him, and now it was just staying comfortable and alert. The night he died a group of us were working on ideas for a fundraiser or Patreon to pay for medications he needed (but of course were not covered). He never gave up on the value of life with his friends and family.
I wish I could have convinced him to let us do a book of his poetry, but I know that when you are desperately ill, pulling your thoughts and work together seems like Mount Everest. So we will need to carry his bard's tales with us, the witnesses to his life.
My beliefs tell me that we go around more than once, because there is too much to learn and experience in one lifetime. I think we've known each other more than once, and I look forward to seeing Earl at the next campfire, to hear everyone's tales of this life, before we all take the next step, whatever it may be.
Safe journey, Earl. May the path be smooth and filled with wonders. See you on the other side.
Some of Earl's poetry can be found here--
https://shiva7663.deviantart.com/gallery/
http://www.writerscafe.org/tantivy7663
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Thank you for the kind words.