Gone Too Long

The first image is of my friend Ron, who is a songwriter and photographer.  The copy is from the lyrics of a song he wrote.  The second image is a portrait of Penny, who modeled for us.  I am using the image in the fourth article in the series Six Things I Learned from Three Years on the Road. 


Photography: Mardi Gras, New Orleans

This photo, taken in New Orleans, was in sharp contrast with reality.
My friend had just lost the love of his life. Her death was unexpected.
I was there to help.

Helping him was a gingerly process, for he was deep in grief and shock.

I rolled up my sleeves and cleaned out the laundry room.  I put a jar of fresh flowers on the table, made soup, baked bread and listened to his stories about the woman he lost.

We uncorked a lot of wine.

He did not want me to touch her jars of creams and lotions in the bathroom.  The shelf they were on had been recently dusted, and I knew that he opened the jars to smell her.

I did not touch him, for he was untouchable in his suffering.  He did not cry.  It was easier for him to be angry.  Every evening, I retired to my room early to give him space and to paint.

The streets were filled with color and music while his heart broke and I watched him crumble.