Dedicated to sharing memories of special
people in my life who have passed on prematurely.
Written and Illustrated by Nigel P.
Kent
FOR ANDREW:
Andrew James Salber Kent
was my third son, born on September 24th 1980 and died just six weeks later of
crib death (SIDS) on November 2nd 1980. Many years after Andrew's death I wrote
the following four poems/stories about him, and how it felt to lose a son. To
anyone out there who has suffered a loss such as this, these are for you
too.
The first three stories are self-explanatory,
but the last one needs some explaining ("The tall man"). In 1985 my stepfather
Tony White passed away in England and I went to his funeral. My sister Vivienne
(Tony's daughter) told me that she had consulted a medium after his death, and
the medium had told her things that defied comprehension by a logical mind. The
medium told Vivienne that her father was happy, and that he looked down from
his towering stature (Tony was very tall) at a little boy who had died in
another part of the world. Tony was smiling as he held Andrew's hand, and that
thought stays with me to this day and gives me solace….as it does my
sister.
Andrew is listed on the Memorial page in the
American Sudden Infant Death Syndrome Institute:
In memory of
Andrew.
FOR DANNY:
Dan Healey was a friend who
showed me many of the hidden wonders of the Finger Lakes Region when I first
arrived in Rochester in 1971. He died of cancer at the age of 29 and his ashes
were scattered on the shores of Canadice Lake, one of his favorite
haunts….and mine. I often think of Danny when I wander the shores of
Canadice, and wrote the following story about him many years later.
Nadeen P Walsh was a friend
who worked at the Lower Mill in Honeoye Falls, where I have a photography
gallery. One day she asked me if I would take some pictures of her family, and
I agreed. The chosen day's weather was perfect and I had a great time
photographing Nadeen, her husband Kevin and their children Gregory and Meghan
outdoors on their beautiful property. When I was almost finished, I suggested
that I shoot some pictures of Nadeen sitting alone in a field of small yellow
flowers near her house, and those pictures turned out to be the best ones of
the day.
Nadeen was taken ill just two weeks after that
family session, and died a few days afterwards of a burst brain aneurysm on
September 22nd 2005, at the age of 38.
I will always remember that day, particularly
the strong silent signals that I could feel passing between Nadeen and Kevin as
I photographed her in that field of flowers. I wrote the following poem about
those ethereal moments.
