Tribute to an Unnamed Woman

[jwgh]

I posted this to ARK after something I read there led to me doing a little woolgathering, which in turn prompted me to do a little rummaging around on the Internet, which, somewhat to my surprise, resulting in my finding the web page of a woman I knew in college, which in turn caused me to write this little pseudo-tribute to her for whatever reason. And now I'm posting it here too. Who knew?

My memory being what it is, dates and other details are probably wrong.

Oh, how nice to have known you, cute woman with a nifty British accent! Your pronunciation of the word 'yoghurt' was a thing of marvel and caused me great pleasure every time I heard it, and although my efforts to mimic it were never fully successful, they too were quite enjoyable!

And ah, your social graces! Your ability to turn me down when I asked you on a date in such a way as to make me cheerful instead of sending me into a deep depression as I would have expected was without peer! Your wisdom and adroitness in preventing me from discussing my crush on you with you was also extraordinary and was greatly appreciated, as it could have only led to unhappiness!

Your willingness to prevent me from starving by having me join your food-co-op, despite the fact that this resulted in more social interaction with me than you probably would have preferred having in an ideal world, was and is greatly appreciated by me! I would probably not have met many of my current friends had I not been involved in the co-op, so the pleasure I derive from them also reflects well on you at some remove, so I will give you some extra credit there, not that you particularly need it!

Your praises let me sing, o woman who convinced me to rescue a kitten and helped pay to get it spayed and vaccinated and found a temporary home for it when neither of us was in a position to take care of it and then later returned and reclaimed it! If your web page is accurate and I remember the cat's name correctly, you still have it, which is somehow pleasing to know!

Your mathematical ability was quite great and your ability to graduate in four years with honors was unequalled by, say, me!

So, basically, I hope that your life is currently very pleasant, because you are smart and nice and generally a nifty person! Unless you have changed hugely in the past eight years, but I doubt it!

I think that's about it! OK! Thanks again! Bye!

Comments

Much more pleasant occasion for a tribute

[vardissakheli.livejournal.com]

than the one I found myself needing to write a few years back:

Your sweet voice no longer rolls down across the water, across the rivers of Anaguri, across the sea, across the ocean to our valley. We no more can hear you calling us to your good country to join the seven native sons beneath the seven stars, at arms or at table. When you stumbled, we must have felt our mother the earth tremble. Your brother wails now from the mountains, where the bells demand: Why, why?

How can I write on the death of a friend I never really knew? We shared food, drink, and song on both sides of the world, but we spoke only briefly, only through second languages and interpreters. Bondo never came to my home or met my cats or even my fiancee. I never saw his home or his brother or knew if he loved someone. Now my fiancee is my wife, my cats have died, my home has new tenants for the third time, and Bondo's brother is home in the mountains with his mother, where I'll never meet them.

What the hell can I write? I don't know how he received guests, I don't know if he loved children or sent them running, I don't know whether he trusted in Christ, pagan gods, neither, or both. I don't even know what Bondo felt about his music. Did he celebrate and embrace folk tradition, or was folk music something to be rescued from the folk--or was it just a way to make a living? Would he even remember me or care that I was writing this? I know my name was too foreign for him to remember, but that's just a name--I have trouble with Ramin's name too, and I don't think he would doubt that I remembered him.

I hate the cruel thing that has happened. I hate the distance that makes the hatred linger without relief. I harbor no conceit that I have written any of this well, but I must write it to expunge that hatred. What was it Rustaveli wrote? What tears down enmity, builds up love.