As he lay dying, friends came to say goodbye. Some gifted him with songs. Others gifted him with words. Poetry was abundant—Langston Hughes, Mary Oliver, and his own My Heart in the Matter. He listened and sometimes nodded. Humor never left him. When asked how many pupusas he would like (wish) to have, he held up two fingers.
His beloved Linda assured him that he will be remembered, and there was nothing in this physical world that he needed to worry about. He was kissed and touched and loved and touched and loved.
He often brought flowers that had passed their prime and over ripe fruits to the Poetry Salon. He saw beauty in things that people discard. Time was neither enemy nor friend. Mostly it was not so important to pay attention to. He would sing to a cynic as well as to an ant. He was not ashamed of his tears.
Carlos Ramirez stepped over the threshold a little after midnight on March 10, 2013—a new born, leaving his skin behind. We are left to dance, leap, and sing through the remains of our days.
Photo by Marlene Aron.
I am glad to see him Saturday. Most grateful to his brother, Jorge, and Linda for doing such a fine job. They knew Carlos could hear us.
I told them it was an honor being in his room when I went to leave.
Yes. It was an honor.
What beautiful words you wrote, here, Clara. I smile and weep and grin, at the beauty that was/is Carlos! He left his magic, his timeless light and love everywhere he went, and behind, and with him. What a beauty. What a Presence.
And what a VOICE! And what gaiety and wonder at it all. Oh, he shone, he did!
I was in his presence for a little bit on Friday night. His loving brother, Jorge, his roommate, Linda, others, gathered in his room, and in the hall just outside his door. They gave me some moments alone with him. I prayed forth love and blessings, and thanked him for all that he gave to so many. I am so honored to have known him.
Blessed be, Carlos. Beautiful Journey, to you.
Thank you Clara for providing this space.
Carlos: We remember your loving spirit radiating from you at every community event or chance encounter on the street. Thank you for the poems and the songs. You called me your teacher. There was much I learned form you. -nina serrano
I know that we all must at some point shuffle off this mortal coil, but I still can’t believe in my heart of hearts that Carlos is gone. I don’t think I’ve ever known a more alive person. It’s hard to think of him as not alive. Many of us are a little in love with death, obsessed by it. But I don’t think Carlos was. He joyed in everything. Sometimes that irritated the hell out of my cynical soul. But I was always happier when Carlos walked into the room. I felt that he elevated us somehow. That spirit will be so deeply missed. RIP Brother!
Thank you, Clara, for this beautiful blog post about a beautiful man.
Thank you for the chuckle, Clara–this put me in mind of a couple of pieces of overripe fruit I myself received. Gifts offered with love and sincerity.
I wish I’d gotten to know Carlos better. Perhaps we’ll be able to meet up in the future worlds.