Nick, Carolyn, Eve, Sky (June 2004)
Friday, September 28, 2007
Rev. Hillary Wright's Words for Sky's Memorial, September 22, 2007
Here is a transcript of Rev. Wright's words for Sky's memorial. Thank you again, Hillary. It was a beautiful service.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
From Sky's Aunt, Carol Zbuska
Sky's Aunt Carol, who loved him dearly, was unable to attend the memorial. She sent us this statement, which was read by a family member at the memorial:
--------------------------------------------
To all who knew and loved Sky:
Sky has touched my life in so many beautiful ways: his laughter, his compassion for others, and his love for all creatures, both great and small.
On several occasions, Sky flew out to the east coast. We often visited the Jersey Shore and Island Beach State Park. Sky was impressed by the many miles of untouched earth – a safe haven for so many animal species.
I will always keep close to my heart…
Sky, Crystal, his family, and all his friends, who loved him deeply…
(Time takes all but memories.)
With much love,
Carol Zbuska
--------------------------------------------
To all who knew and loved Sky:
Sky has touched my life in so many beautiful ways: his laughter, his compassion for others, and his love for all creatures, both great and small.
On several occasions, Sky flew out to the east coast. We often visited the Jersey Shore and Island Beach State Park. Sky was impressed by the many miles of untouched earth – a safe haven for so many animal species.
I will always keep close to my heart…
Sky, Crystal, his family, and all his friends, who loved him deeply…
(Time takes all but memories.)
With much love,
Carol Zbuska
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Little Reminders to Enjoy Life (spoken at Sky's Memorial Service in Topanga on 7-22-07)
I’m a writer and words usually flow easily. But I had a difficult time writing this, as you can imagine. When I finally got something down on paper, it was trite, so rehearsed sounding—and I could just imagine my baby brother Sky kicking me under the table reminding me to be real.
In fact, one of the biggest gifts Sky gave me and my family was the gift of his spontaneity and constant, yet sweet, reminders to be less uptight. I can hear him now with his familiar refrain of “Oh, Carolyn.” He’d say it whenever I was being too conventional, too concerned, too programmed. Sky and my brother Nick even went so far as to script out loud a madcap sitcom starring four siblings. And whenever sister Carolyn got too school-marmish, the other three siblings would chorus, “Oh, Carolyn.”
Sky’s gift of the unconventional and spontaneous shined in his role as the beloved Uncle Sky, a side of him many of you probably didn’t know about. He could play with the kids for hours, slyly encouraging all sorts of bad and crazy behavior. (And I’m sure Crystal will never forget that hysterical car ride to the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History back in April.)
There was the pirate birthday party we had for my son Oliver who was turning 5—Sky was maybe in his second year at Berkeley. Sky and I went to a costume shop a few days beforehand and rented an awesome pirate getup. I had—in my conventional manner—envisioned a dapper kind of pirate captain. But Sky had his heart set on being a scurvy pirate, so . . . It’s the day of the party and we’ve got hoards of little boys running around the house wearing eye patches—and then Sky bursts in yelling in a fearsome voice, “Who stole my treasure?” Several kids screamed and ran for cover, others cowered and in shaky voices told Sky that they had nothing to do with it. All were frightened—except for Oliver who kept circling around this pirate, with this look on his face that said, “Dude, I know you but I’m not sure how.” Sky did such a great job in character that even his nephew couldn’t figure it out. Scaring kids at a party isn’t too PC, in Berkeley of all places—but it was Sky. And it was hilarious.
Sky was the uncle who bravely came to his nephew’s school for Grandparents and Special Friends Day four years ago, and cheerily and good-naturedly participated in all the day’s activities, side by side with all the old grandmas and grandpas. But he found his place, hooking up with an old Berkeley couple, and together they wrote a little ditty about world peace and sang it in front of the class.
Sky was the uncle who could come up with just the right gift—even if it tweaked this staid sister a bit. A first subscription to Rolling Stone magazine for the preteen Oliver, along with some Axe roll-on deodorant for good measure. I can recall the conversation now: “Sky, come on, Axe? Have you seen the disgusting sexist commercials for that product? How could you get that for my kid?” “Oh, Carolyn.”
And then there was the holiday gift that keeps on giving to my rambunctious younger son, Henry. Sometime in December a couple of years back we started to receive these large-format construction industry trade magazines—one was called Equipment Today—all addressed to Henry Smith, president Oakland demolition services. It didn’t take long to figure out who signed Henry up to receive the premier free rag for the heavy equipment industry. Credit card offers then followed, much to Henry’s delight for stashing in his wallet. Sky might have been short on cash that year, but he found a million-dollar way to perfectly seize on his nephew Henry’s penchant for big trucks and construction and, well, just breaking things.
And then there were the endless sword fights between Sky and his nephews, careening through the house and out into the night on the sidewalk. Oh my god, those got out of hand—just crazy and like everything you could want as a kid. And then Uncle Sky showing up on the doorstep on Christmas morning and being the only adult with enough energy (and compassion) left to help put together a new and complicated Lego set.
My baby brother Sky was just an amazing combination of childlike fun and sweetness and spontaneity. And when I find myself inclined to be conventional or uptight as the days and years go by, I hope I’ll continue to hear Sky’s voice saying, “Oh, Carolyn,” spurring me and my family on to enjoy life and have fun. I miss him so much.
In fact, one of the biggest gifts Sky gave me and my family was the gift of his spontaneity and constant, yet sweet, reminders to be less uptight. I can hear him now with his familiar refrain of “Oh, Carolyn.” He’d say it whenever I was being too conventional, too concerned, too programmed. Sky and my brother Nick even went so far as to script out loud a madcap sitcom starring four siblings. And whenever sister Carolyn got too school-marmish, the other three siblings would chorus, “Oh, Carolyn.”
Sky’s gift of the unconventional and spontaneous shined in his role as the beloved Uncle Sky, a side of him many of you probably didn’t know about. He could play with the kids for hours, slyly encouraging all sorts of bad and crazy behavior. (And I’m sure Crystal will never forget that hysterical car ride to the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History back in April.)
There was the pirate birthday party we had for my son Oliver who was turning 5—Sky was maybe in his second year at Berkeley. Sky and I went to a costume shop a few days beforehand and rented an awesome pirate getup. I had—in my conventional manner—envisioned a dapper kind of pirate captain. But Sky had his heart set on being a scurvy pirate, so . . . It’s the day of the party and we’ve got hoards of little boys running around the house wearing eye patches—and then Sky bursts in yelling in a fearsome voice, “Who stole my treasure?” Several kids screamed and ran for cover, others cowered and in shaky voices told Sky that they had nothing to do with it. All were frightened—except for Oliver who kept circling around this pirate, with this look on his face that said, “Dude, I know you but I’m not sure how.” Sky did such a great job in character that even his nephew couldn’t figure it out. Scaring kids at a party isn’t too PC, in Berkeley of all places—but it was Sky. And it was hilarious.
Sky was the uncle who bravely came to his nephew’s school for Grandparents and Special Friends Day four years ago, and cheerily and good-naturedly participated in all the day’s activities, side by side with all the old grandmas and grandpas. But he found his place, hooking up with an old Berkeley couple, and together they wrote a little ditty about world peace and sang it in front of the class.
Sky was the uncle who could come up with just the right gift—even if it tweaked this staid sister a bit. A first subscription to Rolling Stone magazine for the preteen Oliver, along with some Axe roll-on deodorant for good measure. I can recall the conversation now: “Sky, come on, Axe? Have you seen the disgusting sexist commercials for that product? How could you get that for my kid?” “Oh, Carolyn.”
And then there was the holiday gift that keeps on giving to my rambunctious younger son, Henry. Sometime in December a couple of years back we started to receive these large-format construction industry trade magazines—one was called Equipment Today—all addressed to Henry Smith, president Oakland demolition services. It didn’t take long to figure out who signed Henry up to receive the premier free rag for the heavy equipment industry. Credit card offers then followed, much to Henry’s delight for stashing in his wallet. Sky might have been short on cash that year, but he found a million-dollar way to perfectly seize on his nephew Henry’s penchant for big trucks and construction and, well, just breaking things.
And then there were the endless sword fights between Sky and his nephews, careening through the house and out into the night on the sidewalk. Oh my god, those got out of hand—just crazy and like everything you could want as a kid. And then Uncle Sky showing up on the doorstep on Christmas morning and being the only adult with enough energy (and compassion) left to help put together a new and complicated Lego set.
My baby brother Sky was just an amazing combination of childlike fun and sweetness and spontaneity. And when I find myself inclined to be conventional or uptight as the days and years go by, I hope I’ll continue to hear Sky’s voice saying, “Oh, Carolyn,” spurring me and my family on to enjoy life and have fun. I miss him so much.
My brother, my friend (spoken at Sky's Memorial Service - September 22, 2007)
Sky was my baby brother, and my friend.
I will always remember him as a kind and gentle person, with a deep and unrelenting complexity. He left me with a fuller appreciation of the little things in life, and in our world.
He had a wry humor, ready to unleash it when I least expected it. He usually directed it at me when i needed it most; to calm a runaway ego, to teach a searing lesson, or just to poke at an exposed flank. I will really miss the banter back and forth, and the challenge of who will be left with the last, satisfying jab.
There are a few visions of him that are seared in my brain forever, and that I think reflect who he was to me:
- The little strawberry-blonde baby, leaping over and over again with unbridled glee in his jumper, in the middle of the living room, as I ticked his feet each time he got airborne.
- The elementary school kid, who came home one day a bit traumatized because he had tearfully and physically defended a single cockroach on the playground from the feet of the kids who wanted to crush it.
- The long-haired teenager, replete with Led Zeppelin t-shirt and not-so-mysteriously red eyeballs.
- The never-give-up young man, underneath my house with me all Christmas week, pulling electrical cable through slimy conduit to bring more power to the far side of my house. Together laughing, as we worked in filth, dust, and cold for days, listening to the Christmas rumblings happening above our heads.
- The glimpse of the simply happy man, seeing the way he looked adoringly at his girlfriend Crystal during one Thanksgiving.
...I could go on and on with these flashes of memories.
He was my friend, he was my brother, he was my kid's uncle...and in each of these roles, he was the best I could ever hope for. I will miss him with a heavy heart for the rest of my life, always wondering what he would be like as he got older and even more wise...and confused how my little laughing jumping baby brother is not just a phone call or email away.
Sky leaves all of us with a few gifts; to love the earth, to never betray your beliefs, and to be brave. So we will be brave and celebrate him, celebrate the lessons he taught us, celebrate our memories of him. This way, he'll live on in our hearts, and pop up in our daily lives in unexpected and wonderful ways. He asked that we remember him when we see something beautiful...in a flower, a sunset, a full moon. For me, this is where he will live on, in a quiet melding of loving memories and beautiful imagery.
I will love and miss you forever, bro.
Nick
I will always remember him as a kind and gentle person, with a deep and unrelenting complexity. He left me with a fuller appreciation of the little things in life, and in our world.
He had a wry humor, ready to unleash it when I least expected it. He usually directed it at me when i needed it most; to calm a runaway ego, to teach a searing lesson, or just to poke at an exposed flank. I will really miss the banter back and forth, and the challenge of who will be left with the last, satisfying jab.
There are a few visions of him that are seared in my brain forever, and that I think reflect who he was to me:
- The little strawberry-blonde baby, leaping over and over again with unbridled glee in his jumper, in the middle of the living room, as I ticked his feet each time he got airborne.
- The elementary school kid, who came home one day a bit traumatized because he had tearfully and physically defended a single cockroach on the playground from the feet of the kids who wanted to crush it.
- The long-haired teenager, replete with Led Zeppelin t-shirt and not-so-mysteriously red eyeballs.
- The never-give-up young man, underneath my house with me all Christmas week, pulling electrical cable through slimy conduit to bring more power to the far side of my house. Together laughing, as we worked in filth, dust, and cold for days, listening to the Christmas rumblings happening above our heads.
- The glimpse of the simply happy man, seeing the way he looked adoringly at his girlfriend Crystal during one Thanksgiving.
...I could go on and on with these flashes of memories.
He was my friend, he was my brother, he was my kid's uncle...and in each of these roles, he was the best I could ever hope for. I will miss him with a heavy heart for the rest of my life, always wondering what he would be like as he got older and even more wise...and confused how my little laughing jumping baby brother is not just a phone call or email away.
Sky leaves all of us with a few gifts; to love the earth, to never betray your beliefs, and to be brave. So we will be brave and celebrate him, celebrate the lessons he taught us, celebrate our memories of him. This way, he'll live on in our hearts, and pop up in our daily lives in unexpected and wonderful ways. He asked that we remember him when we see something beautiful...in a flower, a sunset, a full moon. For me, this is where he will live on, in a quiet melding of loving memories and beautiful imagery.
I will love and miss you forever, bro.
Nick
Monday, September 24, 2007
Spoken at Sky's Memorial Service - September 22, 2007
As I was walking home from dinner on August 18th, I found a puppy wandering down the street. Only when she wandered into traffic and was nearly hit by a car did I realize that she was a stray. I hesitated for a moment – what responsibility was this dog of mine? – but the knowledge that Sky would kick my ass if he ever found out otherwise prompted me to fetch the dog and bring her home with me. In the days that followed, it even crossed my mind that, if I couldn’t find her owner, I might drive her across the country and give her to Sky. I bring this story up because – right now – it’s a large part of what I have of Sky. In the days and weeks since Sky took his life, people have often sought to share common memories of him with me. ‘Do you remember when…’ they say. And the answer is always ‘no,’ whether I’ve said so or not. No, I don’t remember.
There’s the story of how we first met; that I remember, as at this point it’s mostly just a story. With great serendipity, Sky was assigned to show me around Crossroads on my first day of eighth grade. Me, I was too cool for school; here was this scrawny kid whose earnestness and emotional honesty was just too much for middle-school me. I squatted by a tree in the alley, observing the rest of our classmates from afar, while Sky stood next to me, trying to engage me in conversation. Eventually he asked what I liked to do for fun. I said off-handedly that I played a lot of D&D – had to use the acronym, you understand, to keep out the uninitiated – to which he responded, ‘Really? I play Dungeons & Dragons!’
‘Aw, fuck, am I going to get stuck with the nerds again?’ I thought to myself. Not fifteen minutes later, Sky introduced me to Dan, and much of the succeeding fifteen years fell into place.
Now, besides that story, I find myself drawing a blank. I mean, I know that we lived together in college, I know I got him his first non-academic job after graduation… but concrete recollections are nowhere to be found.
At best I can remember certain gestures, smells. Anybody who spent time in close proximity to Sky knew he had a certain musk. Good, bad – it was Sky. Or the distinctive awkwardness with which he moved his arms. One of the photos from a recent Christmas shows him flipping off the camera. Understanding a photograph to not be an indivisible moment of time, but to actually record some minute duration, I can see recorded there enough time to identify that idiosyncratic motion of his. Or, lastly, I can summon up the way he would lie across his bed reading homework, gently rubbing Fuzzes – an orange shred of fabric which formerly served as a babyblanket – across his mouth and chin.
But the rest, the rest is gone. I’ve asked myself ‘why can’t I remember’, but the answer is clear: I won’t let myself remember. I can’t let myself remember. To remember him would be to acknowledge his absence. Without memory, there is nothing to miss. And right now, it would be too much. I mean, how do you go back to work when someone who has been so much to you is no longer here? How do you do your laundry or go on a date? I mean, each time I’ve done something since the 26th of August, it’s like, ‘Oh, this is the first time I’ve kissed a girl since Sky died,’ or ‘Oh, this is the first time I’ve watched a sunset since Sky died.’ To remember would be to remember doing my laundry with Sky, or working with Sky, or just being with Sky.
After leaving LA around Labor Day, I returned to
And that’s what I have right now from Sky. If he was a nerd, then he is the kind of nerd I aspire to be. That responsibility that demanded I take in that stray, and that earnestness that was too much on the day that we met: these are the things I am clinging to as I greet each new day in the anti-Sky world. And maybe, just maybe, as the days go on, little slips and shreds of experience will fall onto the pool of my days and blossom like origami into memories that I can accept one by one. And maybe that way I can remember him and mourn him without the enormity of his absence overwhelming me.
Just a few more memories
Dear Sky,
I went to your memorial this weekend, and quite frankly, I miss you a lot. Even though I'm now in New York and wouldn't be passing you in the hallway or sharing a beer with you on Fridays like we did at Caltech, there's this void in my life knowing that you're not here anymore. I'm sure your off on another great adventure, but this time you're not coming back to share your stories with us, and that's hard.
I went to your memorial this weekend, and quite frankly, I miss you a lot. Even though I'm now in New York and wouldn't be passing you in the hallway or sharing a beer with you on Fridays like we did at Caltech, there's this void in my life knowing that you're not here anymore. I'm sure your off on another great adventure, but this time you're not coming back to share your stories with us, and that's hard.
Right now, I'm regretting that I didn't tell you how much of an influence you had on my life. I had some really tough dark times at Caltech dealing with my own undiagnosed depression and you were one of those people who always cheered me up and could make me smile and get me to laugh, and that was a rare thing for me. You had such an amazing ebullient personality that was incredibly contagious and it provided some brightness in my life and some good cheer. Thanks for making it impossible to be unhappy and always brightening my day.
Field trips were always fun with you. You always made me remember how amazing nature was and just how awesome it was for all of us to be outside learning about the Earth. A lot of the wonder and awe of nature often gets obscured by the technicalities and rigor of science, and you had the ability to put things in perspective and make me remember and appreciate the beauty and magnificence of the world around me.
I'm not sure you knew this, but you were the person I had my first beer with. In fact, you were the first person I got drunk with. You probably would have wanted to know that, and I could not have asked for a better person to share my first drinking experiences. I remember spending a long time that night just looking at the stars in the sky and drinking that beer with you. You might not remember that night on the Ge 106 field trip, but I sure do, and it was those small
gestures like sharing a beer and looking for shooting stars that meant so much to me. I'm sure you thought nothing of those types of things, because that's just who you were and how you treated everyone, but I hope you know how much those small things meant to people (particularly me) and just how much they could brighten up someone's day.
gestures like sharing a beer and looking for shooting stars that meant so much to me. I'm sure you thought nothing of those types of things, because that's just who you were and how you treated everyone, but I hope you know how much those small things meant to people (particularly me) and just how much they could brighten up someone's day.
One of the other things I will never forget about you is how you challenged me to grow and move beyond my comfort zone. I regret now that I never took you up on your offer to smoke pot with me, because I knew then and I know now that you were trying to get me to push my limits and try something new. I was nervous and scared to do something so outrageous and not typical of me at all so I never took you up on your offer. Next time someone invites me to do something a little crazy and rebellious I'll try to remember to do it in honor of you.
Anyway, I hope you're having a blast and enjoying yourself wherever your travels have taken you. I definitely miss you, and I hope you know that I've grown a lot and am better person because of you.
Take care,
Meghan (Crowley)
Note from Alex Sessions (Caltech fellowship fund)
Hi Eve,
I'm writing to let you know that Dianne and I forgot to make an important announcement at the end of our talks on Saturday. Sky's fellow grad students and friends here at Caltech are in the process of organizing a memorial fund in Sky's memory. The idea is that we will accept donations from anyone who wants to donate, and that money will then be given back to graduate students over the years in the form of grants for doing things that meant a lot to Sky - environmental activism, research, education, outreach, etc. The students have not yet worked out all the details of how the fund will be managed, or where checks should be sent, so we are not quite yet ready to make a formal announcement. But if you could help us spread the word now, so that people know it is coming up, we would appreciate it.
The ceremony on Saturday was beautiful. It was not nearly as sad as I had feared, and which I think would have suited Sky just fine. Such happy and fond memories of Sky are really a testament to his wonderful spirit and sense of humor. Dianne and I were truly honored to be able to speak there, and our hearts are with you and the rest of his family as we continue to struggle to find some peace in all of this.
We'll be in touch further about the fellowship fund.
best wishes,
Alex
I'm writing to let you know that Dianne and I forgot to make an important announcement at the end of our talks on Saturday. Sky's fellow grad students and friends here at Caltech are in the process of organizing a memorial fund in Sky's memory. The idea is that we will accept donations from anyone who wants to donate, and that money will then be given back to graduate students over the years in the form of grants for doing things that meant a lot to Sky - environmental activism, research, education, outreach, etc. The students have not yet worked out all the details of how the fund will be managed, or where checks should be sent, so we are not quite yet ready to make a formal announcement. But if you could help us spread the word now, so that people know it is coming up, we would appreciate it.
The ceremony on Saturday was beautiful. It was not nearly as sad as I had feared, and which I think would have suited Sky just fine. Such happy and fond memories of Sky are really a testament to his wonderful spirit and sense of humor. Dianne and I were truly honored to be able to speak there, and our hearts are with you and the rest of his family as we continue to struggle to find some peace in all of this.
We'll be in touch further about the fellowship fund.
best wishes,
Alex
Sunday, September 23, 2007
At Sky's memorial service, I ended by quoting from a personal statement Sky had written when applying for a graduate fellowship a few years ago. One of the students at the service requested that I post the last line. Here it is:
"Resilience and growth are fundamental to life, and I feel extremely lucky to be able to both study these forces and realize them in myself."
May these words bring you comfort.
"Resilience and growth are fundamental to life, and I feel extremely lucky to be able to both study these forces and realize them in myself."
May these words bring you comfort.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Stars
There are stars whose radiance is visible on earth
though they have long been extinct.
There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world
though they are no longer among the living.
These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark.
They light the way for mankind.
~Hannah Senesh
Fwd: From Baron Davis
Good evening:
I am the personal assistant to one of Sky's fellow Crossroads alumni, Mr. Baron Davis. Since graduating, Baron has gone on to become a professional basketball player, currently with the Golden State Warriors, out of San Francisco, CA. He is dedicating this season to Sky's memory and has asked that I send you the following personal message.
Please post the following memo from Baron Davis on your blog site:
"I'm sad to hear about the recent tragedy. Sky was an amazing soul. We shared laughs at the kiosk and I used to always joke with him about his name.... Skkkkkkkyyyyyy Rashby!!! During opening night of the upcoming 2007-2008 NBA season, I will donate $200 per point. FOR YOU, SKY!"
Please accept our deepest condolences for your loss. Our prayers are with you and Sky's family and friends.
Sincerely,
Lori McDearmon
Personal Assistant to Baron Davis
I am the personal assistant to one of Sky's fellow Crossroads alumni, Mr. Baron Davis. Since graduating, Baron has gone on to become a professional basketball player, currently with the Golden State Warriors, out of San Francisco, CA. He is dedicating this season to Sky's memory and has asked that I send you the following personal message.
Please post the following memo from Baron Davis on your blog site:
"I'm sad to hear about the recent tragedy. Sky was an amazing soul. We shared laughs at the kiosk and I used to always joke with him about his name.... Skkkkkkkyyyyyy Rashby!!! During opening night of the upcoming 2007-2008 NBA season, I will donate $200 per point. FOR YOU, SKY!"
Please accept our deepest condolences for your loss. Our prayers are with you and Sky's family and friends.
Sincerely,
Lori McDearmon
Personal Assistant to Baron Davis
Friday, September 21, 2007
From John Abelson & Mel Simon
We were with Sky on his last field trip to Western Australia. We were there not as mentors but as donors, through our foundation, the Agouron Institute. We are supporting the new field of geobiology and the students on this trip will be the founders of this new field. We came also as students.
At Duck Creek we mapped two billion year old formations that hold clues to what happened in that early part of Earth’s history. Though Sky was a student on this trip he also became a leader. After spending long days in the field he continued on into the night entering our geological mapping data into the computer.
We did not see any evidence of the darkness that was soon to take him. He stripped off his clothes and swam in all of the billabongs we encountered and when our trucks were stalled at a river he mapped the new route for us to cross it. During the endless miles of our trip we listened to our iPods, our songs old, his new. He seemed happy and in his element.
Like everyone who knew him the news of his death came as a shock to us and we feel a sadness that does not and will not quickly pass. And yet because he was among the first, the best and the brightest of this new field of geobiology he will be remembered. Around campfires in Australia, in Africa, in Greenland, wherever there are ancient rocks -- students thirty years from now will ask: Tell us about Sky Rashby… and the founders of this field, now old, will tell the story.
John Abelson, PhD
Melvin Simon, PhD
[Original Photo & note]
Beggarly Heart
When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life,
come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from
beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one,
thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder
~Rabindranath Tagore
========================
Sky,
I never got the chance to thank you for showing me mercy, song, the chance for rest, that light still existed during the dark times in my life.
I am so sorry for not recognizing this in yours.
Forgive me.
I think, even though we didn't spend too much time together, we could recognize similar parts in each other.
I knew you felt deep pain, maybe that's why I confided in you. I thought you had figured out how to deal with the tragedies in life and I looked to you for advice. I am so sorry I put this burden on you. I just wish you knew that you could come to me and talk or not talk, anything. I could have told you that those thoughts lessen, that the feeling of being nothing goes away with time, that you have a place in the world, that rest doesn't mean giving up, that people love you, that I love you. Sometimes I miss you so much, especially when the sky is brilliant like it is today. I don't know where you are; I keep going back and forth on the God issue, but I think you are with my dad. You met him that one time you drove me home. He asked me about your hair. You are a memorable guy. I'll always remember you. I just wish I could turn back time, make things different; I bet you had that wish too.
-Xinning
When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life,
come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from
beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one,
thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder
~Rabindranath Tagore
========================
Sky,
I never got the chance to thank you for showing me mercy, song, the chance for rest, that light still existed during the dark times in my life.
I am so sorry for not recognizing this in yours.
Forgive me.
I think, even though we didn't spend too much time together, we could recognize similar parts in each other.
I knew you felt deep pain, maybe that's why I confided in you. I thought you had figured out how to deal with the tragedies in life and I looked to you for advice. I am so sorry I put this burden on you. I just wish you knew that you could come to me and talk or not talk, anything. I could have told you that those thoughts lessen, that the feeling of being nothing goes away with time, that you have a place in the world, that rest doesn't mean giving up, that people love you, that I love you. Sometimes I miss you so much, especially when the sky is brilliant like it is today. I don't know where you are; I keep going back and forth on the God issue, but I think you are with my dad. You met him that one time you drove me home. He asked me about your hair. You are a memorable guy. I'll always remember you. I just wish I could turn back time, make things different; I bet you had that wish too.
-Xinning
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Chao's Words to Sky
From Sky's friend and labmate, Chao Li:
-Sky, just feeling have some words in my body for you.
Whatever where you are,
just listen!
-You always tried to scare me from my back, this time,
you know, you really scared me to cry! I do not want
to say anything complimentary, I know that will make you
uncomfortable. I just want to ask you - did you forget your
promise to me that you would invite me to attend your
wedding? And you also declared you will have many
kids in your life, all of these, you totally forgot? As friends,
should keep their promise, right? You said you like to
journey around the world, and therefore, you made me
really to imagine one day in future I have invited your family
to visit Great Wall, Forbidden city, and my home town -
there is kind of California, dry and beautiful.
You are a real "bad ass"! You taught me this word;
today I got using it!
-Actually, I don't know what I am saying -
Just let words spilling out of my heart in a non-science way.
I know I may not be a good scientist, at least not a good
geobiologist! I say this, you may be happy? You always
thought me that way, didn't you?
-Sky, my buddy, where did you go?
Do you know I am missing you so much? Yes,
you also know I would miss you in my rest life
when I am alone,
when I am watching my son playing,
and when I wake during the nights...
-Take care, "bad ass"!
Chao
remembering Sky
i met Sky during the first field trip i went on at Caltech, up to Owens Valley. he and Crystal traded off driving and sitting in the front passenger seat, talking nearly constantly. it was one of the first good, fun conversations i participated in with people from work. i remember asking what his siblings names were, and he had me going for awhile about Morning Glory and Stardust and Leaf. :)
i liked that Sky had strong political opinions, that he could joke about being a hippie, that he liked being outdoorsy. i felt happy that he commented on my 'hippie skirts' a year or so later when i started only wearing jeans (i had two long skirts i wore a lot when i first got here). i liked the boldness of the big hair. in fact, i thought of him all through a live showing of HAIR two weeks ago. Let the sun shine in, for all of us.
i liked that Sky had strong political opinions, that he could joke about being a hippie, that he liked being outdoorsy. i felt happy that he commented on my 'hippie skirts' a year or so later when i started only wearing jeans (i had two long skirts i wore a lot when i first got here). i liked the boldness of the big hair. in fact, i thought of him all through a live showing of HAIR two weeks ago. Let the sun shine in, for all of us.
Every time my little child shows me the sky I have to think of you. That I knew you for two years and yet, didn't know you. That you were the one in my office with the crazy hair, that I secretly called a bird's nest. That every time we talked, I felt uneasy, because I couldn't hide, somehow you looked through people's shells. I saw sadness in you and, maybe, anger? I thought this is because Caltech wasn't the right place for you? I will never know the reasons why you had to end your life.
When my little child shows me the sky, and I think of you, I'm afraid, too. Would I survive if he left me behind? Would I survive to be left behind without me knowing why he did that and why I didn't see his suffering? And if I survived, would I ever forgive myself?
When I see the sky, I'm also thinking of how little I know about the people around me, what battles they are fighting, whether they are sad or happy. My battle is to remain sensitive and aware for the needs of my loved ones, and to make sure they know how much I love them, and at the same time try to acknowledge that I can not shield them from all the pain, sadness, and tragedies that life can bring.
Your family and friends will gather on September 22nd, my 33rd birthday. I will celebrate life that day, as I do most days since I have a child. But there is something that you changed. I am more conscious.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
A starry starry night for you
I can't say that I know Sky well, although we shared that old and dark office during our first year at Caltech, together with Kendra and Ben Hickey, the names that left me earlier.
Since people moved to new places, we only met weekly on Alex's group meeting and Geoclub seminar, or just say hi when passing by in the hallway of N Mudd... We didn't talk much, because due to language and culture differences, I couldn't get most of your jokes, just as I couldn't understand your worries and sadness about this country and this world. But I know that you are always smiling to me; you are the one who replaced the waste containers when I forgot to (sorry, I forgot many times...); you kept Kendra's Bif and almost fed her to death : ); you tried to take care of everything when people are busy with their own business...
Now, still, I don't know what to talk about with you, so I find a song that I'd like to sing to you:
Vincent -- Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
Since people moved to new places, we only met weekly on Alex's group meeting and Geoclub seminar, or just say hi when passing by in the hallway of N Mudd... We didn't talk much, because due to language and culture differences, I couldn't get most of your jokes, just as I couldn't understand your worries and sadness about this country and this world. But I know that you are always smiling to me; you are the one who replaced the waste containers when I forgot to (sorry, I forgot many times...); you kept Kendra's Bif and almost fed her to death : ); you tried to take care of everything when people are busy with their own business...
Now, still, I don't know what to talk about with you, so I find a song that I'd like to sing to you:
Vincent -- Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
Left-over Thai food and a can of Rockstar....
I'm not sure I can ever see those things again without thinking of you. Your desk has been vacant for several weeks now, but I know it's not like when you went to Australia. Even so, for the first week or two it really felt like everything was waiting, just waiting, for the right moment when you'd return. I know that that is not a possibility, not reality, but I don't like to think about it. My stuff has started to cross the Line of Demarcation that we arbitrarily set between our two desks. I feel awkward about it being there, but I guess you won't mind too much. Oh, I thought about parking my bike in front of your desk chair the other day. I hope that's ok. I know you thought my bike was pretty sweet, so I'm glad you got to ride it a few times, even if those were just short trips up to the grocery store for some caffeine to keep you going.
They left your stuff in the office because I wanted it that way. I'm not sure what I'll do when it's not there anymore. I'm the only one who sleeps under her desk now. When they initially went to move your things, they had to ask what your pillow and blanket were for. For sleeping under our desks. Duh. It made me smile; I think you would have, too. There are still sponge animals and dinosaurs yet to be born, and I think you left some tea and instant soup under the water cooler. I thought about buying a pack of spong safari animals and pouring hot water over them all at once. It would look pretty cool, and you would have laughed.
Remember when you and Dave took Rob's chair (the one with arm rests), taped "Phasers / Warp Drive / Earl Gray, hot" on one of the arm rests, and put it at my desk? You were always game for the office pranks. Your laugh was so distinct. I can still hear it, actually, in my memory, and I wonder why I never documented the ridiculous stuff we used to do in the office. I would have had a lot of incriminating photos.... It's funny, really, how the quotidian things in this life are so often taken for granted. And how, just as often, we make that same statement when they are no longer the same. You would think that somewhere along the way the human race would learn and culturally evolve a step or two.
I miss you, Sky. You challenged me to think differently almost every day, and--in so doing--you made me a better person. And how did I thank you? I don't think I did, really. You were my fellow eco-crusader, deep-thinking sociopolitical revolutionary. I loved your t-shirts and (I think) you dug mine. (At least I know you liked my wind farm shirt that said "Intelligent Design" under a bunch of modern wind mills.) We talked and we argued; we laughed and we listened. You were perhaps the best officemate I could have ever hoped for. (And secretly, I was totally psyched when Marcia said I was going to be in an office with you and Dave...how could it possibly get any better?!) You were, in short, an exceptional friend.
I feel guilty, too. After all the times I talked about my depression, my anxiety, my own brush with the darkness of the human psyche, my thoughts on medication, my struggle to deal with suicidal impulses in close family members....HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN THOSE THINGS IN YOU? I've gone over days and weeks again and again -- I know what it's like to be sensitive to the collective pain of the world, but why couldn't I see it in you? You would think that, given my own personal experiences, I of all people would be attune to deep, numbing depression in others. Was I too far gone into my own problems to see pain in the people around me? I don't know. I just don't know. Before I left for Goldschmidt, I noticed that you had distanced yourself a bit from the rest of us, but I didn't know it was worse than normal. I remember thinking, while in Germany, that I was looking forward to being back in the office. There had been some talks you would have found interesting at the conference; I almost emailed you about them. I also realized that there are some things I like about America, and I was looking forward to sharing those thoughts with you, just to see what you'd say.
I want to make a difference with my life, affect some change in the world. How many times I romanticized my future while sitting in the office, I do not know. That plan hasn't changed; it's just been modified in a way. Remember when I had you and Crystal, Willy and Susan over for dinner, and you were totally shocked that I had made an entire main course just for you because of your vegetarianism? At the time I didn't see why you should be so shocked -- it's the sort of thing friends do. But I'd like to think, in retrospect, that maybe that gesture mattered a little more, that maybe it was a bit of light or hope (in lentil-loaf form) for humanity: hey, sometimes we do little things that seem like nothing to us but really, REALLY, matter to other people. I'd like to believe that. In and around the department, people are getting together a little bit more, talking a little bit more, thinking a little more broadly about life (the universe, and everything) these days. It's your fault, you know.... : ) I think you'd like that.
[amy]
They left your stuff in the office because I wanted it that way. I'm not sure what I'll do when it's not there anymore. I'm the only one who sleeps under her desk now. When they initially went to move your things, they had to ask what your pillow and blanket were for. For sleeping under our desks. Duh. It made me smile; I think you would have, too. There are still sponge animals and dinosaurs yet to be born, and I think you left some tea and instant soup under the water cooler. I thought about buying a pack of spong safari animals and pouring hot water over them all at once. It would look pretty cool, and you would have laughed.
Remember when you and Dave took Rob's chair (the one with arm rests), taped "Phasers / Warp Drive / Earl Gray, hot" on one of the arm rests, and put it at my desk? You were always game for the office pranks. Your laugh was so distinct. I can still hear it, actually, in my memory, and I wonder why I never documented the ridiculous stuff we used to do in the office. I would have had a lot of incriminating photos.... It's funny, really, how the quotidian things in this life are so often taken for granted. And how, just as often, we make that same statement when they are no longer the same. You would think that somewhere along the way the human race would learn and culturally evolve a step or two.
I miss you, Sky. You challenged me to think differently almost every day, and--in so doing--you made me a better person. And how did I thank you? I don't think I did, really. You were my fellow eco-crusader, deep-thinking sociopolitical revolutionary. I loved your t-shirts and (I think) you dug mine. (At least I know you liked my wind farm shirt that said "Intelligent Design" under a bunch of modern wind mills.) We talked and we argued; we laughed and we listened. You were perhaps the best officemate I could have ever hoped for. (And secretly, I was totally psyched when Marcia said I was going to be in an office with you and Dave...how could it possibly get any better?!) You were, in short, an exceptional friend.
I feel guilty, too. After all the times I talked about my depression, my anxiety, my own brush with the darkness of the human psyche, my thoughts on medication, my struggle to deal with suicidal impulses in close family members....HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN THOSE THINGS IN YOU? I've gone over days and weeks again and again -- I know what it's like to be sensitive to the collective pain of the world, but why couldn't I see it in you? You would think that, given my own personal experiences, I of all people would be attune to deep, numbing depression in others. Was I too far gone into my own problems to see pain in the people around me? I don't know. I just don't know. Before I left for Goldschmidt, I noticed that you had distanced yourself a bit from the rest of us, but I didn't know it was worse than normal. I remember thinking, while in Germany, that I was looking forward to being back in the office. There had been some talks you would have found interesting at the conference; I almost emailed you about them. I also realized that there are some things I like about America, and I was looking forward to sharing those thoughts with you, just to see what you'd say.
I want to make a difference with my life, affect some change in the world. How many times I romanticized my future while sitting in the office, I do not know. That plan hasn't changed; it's just been modified in a way. Remember when I had you and Crystal, Willy and Susan over for dinner, and you were totally shocked that I had made an entire main course just for you because of your vegetarianism? At the time I didn't see why you should be so shocked -- it's the sort of thing friends do. But I'd like to think, in retrospect, that maybe that gesture mattered a little more, that maybe it was a bit of light or hope (in lentil-loaf form) for humanity: hey, sometimes we do little things that seem like nothing to us but really, REALLY, matter to other people. I'd like to believe that. In and around the department, people are getting together a little bit more, talking a little bit more, thinking a little more broadly about life (the universe, and everything) these days. It's your fault, you know.... : ) I think you'd like that.
[amy]
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Photo links updates
There are now two ways to view photos:
Via John's web site:
Family Photos
Friends Photos
Or, if you prefer, you can view them via Picasa:
Family Photos
Friends Photos
Thank you to EVERYONE who sent photos. What a glorious tribute to Sky's memory all these photos are! (John apologizes for the lack of captions--it would have been too time-consuming to try to track down all the dates and places, but feel free to add captions if you want to.)
Via John's web site:
Family Photos
Friends Photos
Or, if you prefer, you can view them via Picasa:
Family Photos
Friends Photos
Thank you to EVERYONE who sent photos. What a glorious tribute to Sky's memory all these photos are! (John apologizes for the lack of captions--it would have been too time-consuming to try to track down all the dates and places, but feel free to add captions if you want to.)
Saturday, September 15, 2007
My neighbor Sky
I met Sky a little over a year ago when I moved into this small, quaint complex in Highland Park. It's a great place to live. Good energy and some of the best people you could ever meet. Sky was one of these people. He was my neighbor. Our cottages directly faced one another. I didn't know too much about him. We had brief interactions and he did hang out with all the neighbors on several occasions. What I did know about Sky was that he was a kind, gentle, and friendly person. He was always planting or watering something. Always trying to make the earth a more beautiful place. It's clear his contributions are endless. The last time I spoke to Sky he had come over to ask me to turn down some music I had been playing. I noticed he was tense. He was still very sweet. He sat and spoke to June (another neighbor) and me for a few moments and as he walked out the door he said "You guys are good neighbors." I've gone over that evening over and over again trying to figure out if I missed something. My thoughts and feelings in regards to this last encounter are similar to what many of you must be feeling..I should've said something...I should've asked questions....I should've done something.
It's difficult to walk out my front door these days without reliving the tragic events of that gloomy Sunday afternoon. It deeply saddens me to think of Sky's pain and all that he must have been feeling all the while I was right there, next door. My neighbors and I are trying to focus less on Sky's death and more on his life. All that he was, all that he loved, and all who loved him. This world is a better place because of Sky and we must find a way to celebrate this. Sky was a good neighbor and a great person. He brought what was already a close community even closer together. He has accomplished in his short life what most people couldn't do in several lifetimes. Our courtyard is a better more beautiful place because of him. I firmly believe he is still among us in some form, on some level. Energy doesn't die. Sky will live on through all who knew him. We are all blessed to have known him at all.
So now, when I walk out my front door I will try to focus on the beautiful garden he left behind. I think that would make Sky very happy.
To Sky's siblings: I want to thank you for allowing all of us to be a part of remembering Sky. May God bless you and comfort you.
To my neighbors: I love you all so much. Thank you for all the support and love during this difficult time. I am so lucky to have you guys.
------------------------------------------------
How To Save A Life
The Fray
© 2004 Slade/King
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
------------------------------------------------
To Sky with love
It's difficult to walk out my front door these days without reliving the tragic events of that gloomy Sunday afternoon. It deeply saddens me to think of Sky's pain and all that he must have been feeling all the while I was right there, next door. My neighbors and I are trying to focus less on Sky's death and more on his life. All that he was, all that he loved, and all who loved him. This world is a better place because of Sky and we must find a way to celebrate this. Sky was a good neighbor and a great person. He brought what was already a close community even closer together. He has accomplished in his short life what most people couldn't do in several lifetimes. Our courtyard is a better more beautiful place because of him. I firmly believe he is still among us in some form, on some level. Energy doesn't die. Sky will live on through all who knew him. We are all blessed to have known him at all.
So now, when I walk out my front door I will try to focus on the beautiful garden he left behind. I think that would make Sky very happy.
To Sky's siblings: I want to thank you for allowing all of us to be a part of remembering Sky. May God bless you and comfort you.
To my neighbors: I love you all so much. Thank you for all the support and love during this difficult time. I am so lucky to have you guys.
------------------------------------------------
How To Save A Life
The Fray
© 2004 Slade/King
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
------------------------------------------------
To Sky with love
Friday, September 14, 2007
Friends' Photos
Here are some photos that five friends of Sky sent me for publication on the blog. Thank you to Katie Wheeler, Tracy Teal, Andrea Clements, Kendra Turk, and Meghan Crowley. If anyone else has photos of Sky they would like me to publish via my website, please send them to me ASAP. Michael Chung is also working on a Power Point slide show for Sky's memorial -- I will gladly forward any photos to him. (If I have left out photos that someone sent me, my apologies. Drop me a line and I will correct any such oversight.)
And more photos of Sky
Here, incorporated into the previous collection, are more photos of Sky from Eve's and Carolyn's collections. If you want to view the additions separately, here are the photos I added from Eve's collection, and here are the photos I added from Carolyn's collection. There are also even more photos forthcoming from several friends' collections.
Talking about Sky in another blog
Oliver Morton, a science writer who has worked in the past at The Economist and Wired, and is now the Chief News and Features Editor at Nature has posted a nice piece about Sky on his blog. Thank you, Oliver, for the introspection and the kind words, and for bringing more of Sky's scientific voice to a larger audience.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Sky's Research Paper
According to one of Sky's thesis advisors, Dr. Alex Sessions, "Sky had made some truly groundbreaking discoveries over the past year which significantly affect our understanding of when and how early life on Earth evolved. Those results have just been published in a paper in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences [NAS], one of the most influential journals in the world. Most graduate students, even at Caltech, are happy to have any paper published by the end of their third year, let alone a groundbreaking one in such a prestigious journal." [Excerpted from the Topanga Messenger.]
Dr. Dianne K. Newman, Sky's other thesis advisor, remarks that it is no exaggeration to say that this is a landmark paper and will have a long-lasting impact on the field of geobiology.
Note from John: I left a comment about reading the last paragraph of Sky's paper, but in case you don't make it that far I thought I'd include it here:
With profound sadness we record that Sky Rashby passed away on August 25, 2007, while this manuscript was in press. This is his work and his first scientific publication. We mourn the tragic loss of this talented young scientist and compassionate individual.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Missed chances
Sky, you were a joy to work with and I'll miss you. When we talked on that last Friday, every instinct told me to hug you and try to help. Instead, I kept up a trivial conversation to avoid "embarrassing" you. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference, but I'll always wish I could live that last encounter again. I promise to do better with the next troubled friend I see.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
We only talked a few times.
Hi Sky.
You know you made an impression on me with the hair. When I joined the lab last year, and people would talk about other students in the department, I just couldn't keep it all straight, who was who. Your hair helped a lot. When I saw you the last Friday, I mentioned that your haircut looked nice, but what I didn't tell you was that it reminded me of the emotional times in my life, when I go boy-short with my own hair. And now I feel a connection with you, over that.
Sky, you could have talked to any of us. We know what it's like. I'm really, really sad about that. We miss you.
We only talked a few times, but I was really looking forward to having a relationship with you that would slowly grow. I knew it would, and I knew it didn't need to be rushed, because you're that kind of person.
It was really plain to see that you had an active mind, and had your finger on the pulse of a lot of issues. The conversation with you that I remember most, was when we talked at the last house concert. I was asking you about economics in Africa, and food crops. We got onto warming, and how humans will probably destroy the planet.... and how in the end the microorganisms will be just fine. And we laughed, and we felt like that was alright, then.
I miss you. I wish things had gone differently. I don't know what I'll do, yet, to mark the impression that your life had on mine. I'm a little angry about being in the position of thinking about these things, because it feels like it reduces the person you are to some gesture. At the same time, I need to make the gesture, because to not make it doesn't help at all. But I'm not really that angry so much as sad, because I know that you were in a bad way, and I hope you are feeling better. I think you must, as enadin said, be on a terrific adventure.
Love you,
Patty
You know you made an impression on me with the hair. When I joined the lab last year, and people would talk about other students in the department, I just couldn't keep it all straight, who was who. Your hair helped a lot. When I saw you the last Friday, I mentioned that your haircut looked nice, but what I didn't tell you was that it reminded me of the emotional times in my life, when I go boy-short with my own hair. And now I feel a connection with you, over that.
Sky, you could have talked to any of us. We know what it's like. I'm really, really sad about that. We miss you.
We only talked a few times, but I was really looking forward to having a relationship with you that would slowly grow. I knew it would, and I knew it didn't need to be rushed, because you're that kind of person.
It was really plain to see that you had an active mind, and had your finger on the pulse of a lot of issues. The conversation with you that I remember most, was when we talked at the last house concert. I was asking you about economics in Africa, and food crops. We got onto warming, and how humans will probably destroy the planet.... and how in the end the microorganisms will be just fine. And we laughed, and we felt like that was alright, then.
I miss you. I wish things had gone differently. I don't know what I'll do, yet, to mark the impression that your life had on mine. I'm a little angry about being in the position of thinking about these things, because it feels like it reduces the person you are to some gesture. At the same time, I need to make the gesture, because to not make it doesn't help at all. But I'm not really that angry so much as sad, because I know that you were in a bad way, and I hope you are feeling better. I think you must, as enadin said, be on a terrific adventure.
Love you,
Patty
Friday, September 7, 2007
Memories of Sky
I did not learn of Sky's death until, nearly a week after it happened, I was on my way back from the field and checked my email for the first time in almost two weeks. I was, needless to say, stunned, shocked, and deeply saddened.
Sky was a wonderful, good-hearted person, beloved by all of us in the small community of Caltech geobiologists. I didn't get to know Sky as well as I would have liked outside the context of the lab and the field -- how could anyone, when we were all expecting decades in which to do that and were given only a few years? Yet Sky was still a beloved and trusted friend.
I first met Sky just as he was starting at Caltech, at a meeting discussing the rise of oxygen in the atmosphere deep in Earth's past. Over the following three years, he revealed himself to be not just a brilliant and hard-working scientist, more capable than almost anyone else in our program of binding together the "geo" and "bio" of geobiology, but also one of the pivotal members of our community. One of the last extended periods of time I spent was Sky was in New Mexico and Texas last November; I have a vivid memory from the magical setting of White Sands in flood of Crystal, Sky, and I sneaking aside to prod at colorful streamers of bacteria.
I last saw Sky in May, shortly before I left Caltech. By the time I returned to Pasadena in June for graduation, he was already off exploring Australian geobiology. I imagined that we would have many decades together as colleagues and as friends; it never would have occurred to me that he would leave us all, and that I would never see him again.
While I was away, the GPS Division held Zilchbrau, its annual party. The last email I have from Sky reads, "They're making me play you in Zilchbrau -- any advice?" I wish I could have been there to see it.
Sky had weathered a lot of hardships in his life, but he rarely showed it. He was one of the warmest and most generous people I know. Life, for all of us, is transient. But we approach immortality through the people we touch and the products of our action. Sky is gone, but he has touched so many people, and through us all he will yet live a long life.
Sky was a wonderful, good-hearted person, beloved by all of us in the small community of Caltech geobiologists. I didn't get to know Sky as well as I would have liked outside the context of the lab and the field -- how could anyone, when we were all expecting decades in which to do that and were given only a few years? Yet Sky was still a beloved and trusted friend.
I first met Sky just as he was starting at Caltech, at a meeting discussing the rise of oxygen in the atmosphere deep in Earth's past. Over the following three years, he revealed himself to be not just a brilliant and hard-working scientist, more capable than almost anyone else in our program of binding together the "geo" and "bio" of geobiology, but also one of the pivotal members of our community. One of the last extended periods of time I spent was Sky was in New Mexico and Texas last November; I have a vivid memory from the magical setting of White Sands in flood of Crystal, Sky, and I sneaking aside to prod at colorful streamers of bacteria.
I last saw Sky in May, shortly before I left Caltech. By the time I returned to Pasadena in June for graduation, he was already off exploring Australian geobiology. I imagined that we would have many decades together as colleagues and as friends; it never would have occurred to me that he would leave us all, and that I would never see him again.
While I was away, the GPS Division held Zilchbrau, its annual party. The last email I have from Sky reads, "They're making me play you in Zilchbrau -- any advice?" I wish I could have been there to see it.
Sky had weathered a lot of hardships in his life, but he rarely showed it. He was one of the warmest and most generous people I know. Life, for all of us, is transient. But we approach immortality through the people we touch and the products of our action. Sky is gone, but he has touched so many people, and through us all he will yet live a long life.
Memories and unsaid words...
I, like many others, have had a difficult time trying to put into words all that I’d like to say to Sky and about Sky. So, I’ll just see where this takes me.
No one will find it hard to believe that I heard about Sky before I met him. I was told that one of the Geobiology students that would be starting school with me was a brilliant molecular-biologist hippy from Berkeley with really big hair. What could be better? When I finally met Sky, I remember being disappointed that he had a crew cut. Those of you that knew Sky know I just happened to meet him during one of those times when he lopped it all off.
I felt drawn to Sky right away. It was impossible to miss that I had just met someone remarkable. Sky made everyone feel at ease, and people gravitated towards him. Not only was he great fun, he was also a true friend. He was a great thinker, and I marveled on many occasions the grandeur of his ideas. And he was an old soul. This, I don’t think anyone could have missed.
There are many things I wish I could have said to Sky. Thank you for many bright moments during a dark time. You never knew how most of my fond memories of Caltech life were given to me by you. Thank you for being a good parent to BIF. Thank you for being a listener and for providing me with support. I valued your wisdom at the time as it helped me to make difficult decisions – but I value it even more now as it echoes and resounds through my head. Thank you for letting me raid your MP3 collection, for now I have tons of music that reminds me of you. Thank you for setting an example for me and others…in your seamless blending of political activism, dedication to geobiology, and a rich life of family and friends.
I am sorry that I was so buried in my own depression to be present for you during the time we had together. I am sorry that when I told you that I was leaving and your face fell that I was so numb I could offer little explanation or comfort. I am sorry that I did not look back. I am so sorry for not looking back. I am sorry that I did not get you on the phone that last time.
I am hopeful that you are still out there somewhere, and that you are in the presence of loved ones. I am hopeful that we will see each other again one day.
I know that there are many, many lives that have been touched by you who miss you terribly.
No one will find it hard to believe that I heard about Sky before I met him. I was told that one of the Geobiology students that would be starting school with me was a brilliant molecular-biologist hippy from Berkeley with really big hair. What could be better? When I finally met Sky, I remember being disappointed that he had a crew cut. Those of you that knew Sky know I just happened to meet him during one of those times when he lopped it all off.
I felt drawn to Sky right away. It was impossible to miss that I had just met someone remarkable. Sky made everyone feel at ease, and people gravitated towards him. Not only was he great fun, he was also a true friend. He was a great thinker, and I marveled on many occasions the grandeur of his ideas. And he was an old soul. This, I don’t think anyone could have missed.
There are many things I wish I could have said to Sky. Thank you for many bright moments during a dark time. You never knew how most of my fond memories of Caltech life were given to me by you. Thank you for being a good parent to BIF. Thank you for being a listener and for providing me with support. I valued your wisdom at the time as it helped me to make difficult decisions – but I value it even more now as it echoes and resounds through my head. Thank you for letting me raid your MP3 collection, for now I have tons of music that reminds me of you. Thank you for setting an example for me and others…in your seamless blending of political activism, dedication to geobiology, and a rich life of family and friends.
I am sorry that I was so buried in my own depression to be present for you during the time we had together. I am sorry that when I told you that I was leaving and your face fell that I was so numb I could offer little explanation or comfort. I am sorry that I did not look back. I am so sorry for not looking back. I am sorry that I did not get you on the phone that last time.
I am hopeful that you are still out there somewhere, and that you are in the presence of loved ones. I am hopeful that we will see each other again one day.
I know that there are many, many lives that have been touched by you who miss you terribly.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Photos of Sky
Here (because it's all I can muster right now in the way of expressing my grief) are photos of Sky I scanned and posted for everyone to see if they want to. Thank you to Carol Zbuska, Sky's Aunt (Beverly's sister), who ran right out and got reprints made to send to Eve for me to scan. Thank you to Crystal for the current photos of her with Sky. The bulk of the rest of the photos are from Sky's own collection. A final few are from my photo archive (I wish I had more). If you have photos you want to add to the display, please send them to me and I will add them as soon as I can. Michael Chung is going to create a Power Point presentation for Sky's memorial and it would be great to have more photos for that.
I also created a link to the photo page underneath the beautiful and haunting self-portrait of Sky and Crystal at the top right of this blog.
Thank you all so gratefully much for all the amazingly wonderful posts and tender thoughts. So tragically beautiful that so much love and kindness has been born out of Sky's passing. I keep writing letters to Sky in my head but can't seem to get the words right on paper. My heart aches for all the pain he must have endured, was enduring. Sky was a beautiful, loving, kind, funny, radiant, and amazing man. I counted his presence in my life as one of the bonus blessings to marrying his sister, Eve. I grieve for the pain he endured for so long and finally couldn't survive, pain I know only too well from my own bouts of depression at that same age and younger. Pain I wish I had shared with him.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that beautiful, loving, kind, funny, radiant, and amazing Sky is no longer of this world. I just feel a big empty numbness in my heart for all the love that I had (have) for Sky that has no avenue to express itself (in this world) anymore.
Here is a letter written by Kevin P. Austin, PhD, Senior Director for Health and Counseling Services at Caltech. Kevin's words express in much fuller and clearer ways what I am feeling and thinking and don't know how to say. Thank you, Kevin, for your powerful, thoughtful, and meaningful words.
So hug each other, love each other, talk to each other. Be the radiant, open, beautiful person you are. Silence is not golden, it is deadly. Speak up, speak out. And listen. This is the cure--let that be Sky's legacy!
Rest in peace, Sky. And then journey on....
I also created a link to the photo page underneath the beautiful and haunting self-portrait of Sky and Crystal at the top right of this blog.
Thank you all so gratefully much for all the amazingly wonderful posts and tender thoughts. So tragically beautiful that so much love and kindness has been born out of Sky's passing. I keep writing letters to Sky in my head but can't seem to get the words right on paper. My heart aches for all the pain he must have endured, was enduring. Sky was a beautiful, loving, kind, funny, radiant, and amazing man. I counted his presence in my life as one of the bonus blessings to marrying his sister, Eve. I grieve for the pain he endured for so long and finally couldn't survive, pain I know only too well from my own bouts of depression at that same age and younger. Pain I wish I had shared with him.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that beautiful, loving, kind, funny, radiant, and amazing Sky is no longer of this world. I just feel a big empty numbness in my heart for all the love that I had (have) for Sky that has no avenue to express itself (in this world) anymore.
Here is a letter written by Kevin P. Austin, PhD, Senior Director for Health and Counseling Services at Caltech. Kevin's words express in much fuller and clearer ways what I am feeling and thinking and don't know how to say. Thank you, Kevin, for your powerful, thoughtful, and meaningful words.
So hug each other, love each other, talk to each other. Be the radiant, open, beautiful person you are. Silence is not golden, it is deadly. Speak up, speak out. And listen. This is the cure--let that be Sky's legacy!
Rest in peace, Sky. And then journey on....
Forever
Sky –
How can it be true? It can’t be true – I say over and over as I walk down the hall. But it is true, I feel it everywhere, I see it in everyone. It’s a sadness that is inescapable.
Did you know how hard it would be for those left behind? Those, whom, as you say, loved you deeply. I am filled with heartache that the world has lost someone so special. And, if I, someone who knew you for only a short time (too short, I now regret) can feel this strongly, what the others must feel is unimaginable to me.
How should we go on? You told us that we should not be sad. That is hard, too hard. You told us also to think of you whenever we see something beautiful. That will be easy. I will never again look to the sky the same, but instead will feel your spirit and do my best to remember what you wanted for all of us, a better world.
But, why would you leave us to do this alone? I know the answer – that we are not really alone. That you are still out there somewhere, watching over those you loved, those that still need you and always will. If I got to pick my guardian angel, I’d choose you.
Are we supposed to let go? I miss you already, and will always remember your great laugh, sometimes (often) crazy hair, and your taste for bad margaritas. You affected each and every one of us, whether we knew you well or only for a short time. I have been forever changed by you, Sky. And for that, I am thankful and will never really let you go.
May you soar now as high as you wish, and find peace, unencumbered. Let your soul be your guide – why should now be any different.
How can it be true? It can’t be true – I say over and over as I walk down the hall. But it is true, I feel it everywhere, I see it in everyone. It’s a sadness that is inescapable.
Did you know how hard it would be for those left behind? Those, whom, as you say, loved you deeply. I am filled with heartache that the world has lost someone so special. And, if I, someone who knew you for only a short time (too short, I now regret) can feel this strongly, what the others must feel is unimaginable to me.
How should we go on? You told us that we should not be sad. That is hard, too hard. You told us also to think of you whenever we see something beautiful. That will be easy. I will never again look to the sky the same, but instead will feel your spirit and do my best to remember what you wanted for all of us, a better world.
But, why would you leave us to do this alone? I know the answer – that we are not really alone. That you are still out there somewhere, watching over those you loved, those that still need you and always will. If I got to pick my guardian angel, I’d choose you.
Are we supposed to let go? I miss you already, and will always remember your great laugh, sometimes (often) crazy hair, and your taste for bad margaritas. You affected each and every one of us, whether we knew you well or only for a short time. I have been forever changed by you, Sky. And for that, I am thankful and will never really let you go.
May you soar now as high as you wish, and find peace, unencumbered. Let your soul be your guide – why should now be any different.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Sky's words
We found a letter in Sky's papers last week, in an envelope on which he had written "If I Die". The letter is dated February 26, 2006. This is the last paragraph of the letter:
"While this note implies that I've probably passed too early I have lived many lifetimes in one, and loved very deeply. So don't feel bad, just remember me when you see something beautiful and continue working to make the world harmonious for all living things."
With love to all who are grieving,
Eve
"While this note implies that I've probably passed too early I have lived many lifetimes in one, and loved very deeply. So don't feel bad, just remember me when you see something beautiful and continue working to make the world harmonious for all living things."
With love to all who are grieving,
Eve
Happy Trails
When I heard that Sky was gone I couldn't believe it, it seemed too incredible, too unreal. It is, it still is and I think it always will be. If I had learned that Sky left to travel the world, to become a monk, to find a lost treasure, or even that he was abducted by aliens, all these things I could have believed. So I decided that this is what I will believe. That Sky decided to take a trip somewhere, that everything happened at the last minute or the plans were sacred and secret and he didn't have time to tell everyone. So wherever you are, Sky, I hope you are having a terrific journey. I'm glad I knew you for what felt like a short time. I'm glad I got to play some small part in your amazing life. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I hope on your travels you know that your friends are with you in spirit. As you are with us.
We Shared the Same Blood....
I received the call from Carolyn last week that Sky's physical life on this earth is no more. The news was of course shocking to hear and my immediate reaction was one of shared pain for Sky's family, his brother and his sisters and their families and for his friends too. How devastated they must have been to receive such unexpected and incomprehensible news about the sudden loss of such a loved one. Sky was my second cousin. We shared the same great-grandparents. We shared the same blood....
I never met Sky and I had never even spoken to Sky. It wasn't until about two years ago that I even knew that Sky and his siblings existed. It was back then that I used the amazing technology of the internet to locate my Rashby cousins on the west coast. I have always been fascinated by my family's ancestry and there was always a piece missing in our family as it related to the Rashby line. As families go, our family is probably not much different than most. Family members either remove themselves or are removed by others for reasons that are not necessarily sensible. But it happens and it happened in our family. Sky's Dad and my Mom were first cousins. While growing up, they were pretty close. They played together in their youth. There was a falling out in the late 1950's/early 1960s and that was it. No more contact with each other for the rest of their lives. They too are now both gone from this earth. But their children do have contact. We email and call each other and we have resurrected a lost family connection.
I was not sure what it is that I wanted to say on this blog in memory of Sky. How do I write something meaningful about someone who I never had the privilege of personally knowing. I have thought about it this past week and decided that it may be comforting for family and friends to know something about Sky's "Rashby" heritage. In my youth, someone very wise once told me that in order to know where you are going in life it is important to know where you come from. How true that really is....From generation to generation a piece of generations past is carried forward to the next. Sky and I shared the same blood....we shared the same heritage....we shared pieces of the same generations past.
I had the privilege of knowing our great-grandmother. When I was a little boy I would see her quite often because she lived with my grandparents. Her name was Rose Rashbaum (the surname before it was changed by Sky's grandfather Robert Rashby). She was quite an amazing woman and from what I know of Sky and what I did know of my Great Grandma Rose, they would have loved each other dearly. She was a very warm and loving lady. She was also extremely sharp and bright even up until her dying day at the age of 87. Rose Rashbaum was quite a humanitarian. Even in the last years of her life, Rose, with failing eyesight and severe vascular disease, would travel by three city buses to a nursing home on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where she would feed the residents , many who were much younger than she. She cared so deeply about those less fortunate. From what I have learned about Sky and his love of humanity....his caring spirit....I can see now how a piece of our Great Grandmother had transcended down to Sky, her great-grandson....a piece of a generation past....
I did not have the privilege of knowing Sky's grandfather, Robert (Bob) Rashby, the son of Rose Rashbaum. Bob Rashby passed away in the late 1950's before I was born. From the stories that I have heard over the years, Robert Rashby was quite a unique soul. He too was very bright and excelled academically. The son of immigrant Jews from Balystok, Poland, he reached great heights by becoming an assistant principal for an elementary school in Brooklyn, New York at a time when barriers prohibited American Jews from attaining such positions in the education system. While he accomplished so much in his career, it's what he did for the community that really deserves attention. Sky's grandfather lived his life in a most altruistic way. The community in Brooklyn where he worked was inhabited by many Hispanics. The people who lived there were quite poor and disadvantaged. My grandfather owned a pharmacy in that neighborhood. After school would let out, Bob would stop by the pharmacy. He would go to a room in the back of the pharmacy where he would teach English to Hispanic immigrants to help them better their lives and to help them prepare for citizenship. My grandmother told me that Bob would also buy shoes for the children in the school, whose parents were unable to buy such necessities for them. He bought them shoes on a very modest teacher's salary. Robert Rashby, like Sky, was a true humanitarian....a piece of Robert Rashby had transcended down to Sky....a piece of a generation past.
Our great-great-grandfather immigrated to America at the very end of his life. His name was Mayer Yacov Eisenstadt (he was the father of Rose Rashbaum). When he arrived in New York City in the mid 1920's his son would take him to the New York City Public Library on 42nd Street in Manhattan every week. Mayer would stay at the library all day and peruse book after book about astronomy. He had a passion to learn about the planets and the stars and a thirst for scientific knowledge. How ironic, that four generations later, Mayer's great-great-grandson Sky would become a scientist and pursue an academic career at such esteemed levels. A piece of Mayer had transcended down to Sky....a piece of a generation past.From what I know and have learned about Sky, the generations past would have been proud to have him as their progeny. His life continued to ignite many of the same sparks as those who walked before him . His soul is now with theirs. He made his contribution to this earth....in many ways beyond what most contribute in lives lived twice as long.
I never met Sky and I had never even spoken to Sky. It wasn't until about two years ago that I even knew that Sky and his siblings existed. It was back then that I used the amazing technology of the internet to locate my Rashby cousins on the west coast. I have always been fascinated by my family's ancestry and there was always a piece missing in our family as it related to the Rashby line. As families go, our family is probably not much different than most. Family members either remove themselves or are removed by others for reasons that are not necessarily sensible. But it happens and it happened in our family. Sky's Dad and my Mom were first cousins. While growing up, they were pretty close. They played together in their youth. There was a falling out in the late 1950's/early 1960s and that was it. No more contact with each other for the rest of their lives. They too are now both gone from this earth. But their children do have contact. We email and call each other and we have resurrected a lost family connection.
I was not sure what it is that I wanted to say on this blog in memory of Sky. How do I write something meaningful about someone who I never had the privilege of personally knowing. I have thought about it this past week and decided that it may be comforting for family and friends to know something about Sky's "Rashby" heritage. In my youth, someone very wise once told me that in order to know where you are going in life it is important to know where you come from. How true that really is....From generation to generation a piece of generations past is carried forward to the next. Sky and I shared the same blood....we shared the same heritage....we shared pieces of the same generations past.
I had the privilege of knowing our great-grandmother. When I was a little boy I would see her quite often because she lived with my grandparents. Her name was Rose Rashbaum (the surname before it was changed by Sky's grandfather Robert Rashby). She was quite an amazing woman and from what I know of Sky and what I did know of my Great Grandma Rose, they would have loved each other dearly. She was a very warm and loving lady. She was also extremely sharp and bright even up until her dying day at the age of 87. Rose Rashbaum was quite a humanitarian. Even in the last years of her life, Rose, with failing eyesight and severe vascular disease, would travel by three city buses to a nursing home on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where she would feed the residents , many who were much younger than she. She cared so deeply about those less fortunate. From what I have learned about Sky and his love of humanity....his caring spirit....I can see now how a piece of our Great Grandmother had transcended down to Sky, her great-grandson....a piece of a generation past....
I did not have the privilege of knowing Sky's grandfather, Robert (Bob) Rashby, the son of Rose Rashbaum. Bob Rashby passed away in the late 1950's before I was born. From the stories that I have heard over the years, Robert Rashby was quite a unique soul. He too was very bright and excelled academically. The son of immigrant Jews from Balystok, Poland, he reached great heights by becoming an assistant principal for an elementary school in Brooklyn, New York at a time when barriers prohibited American Jews from attaining such positions in the education system. While he accomplished so much in his career, it's what he did for the community that really deserves attention. Sky's grandfather lived his life in a most altruistic way. The community in Brooklyn where he worked was inhabited by many Hispanics. The people who lived there were quite poor and disadvantaged. My grandfather owned a pharmacy in that neighborhood. After school would let out, Bob would stop by the pharmacy. He would go to a room in the back of the pharmacy where he would teach English to Hispanic immigrants to help them better their lives and to help them prepare for citizenship. My grandmother told me that Bob would also buy shoes for the children in the school, whose parents were unable to buy such necessities for them. He bought them shoes on a very modest teacher's salary. Robert Rashby, like Sky, was a true humanitarian....a piece of Robert Rashby had transcended down to Sky....a piece of a generation past.
Our great-great-grandfather immigrated to America at the very end of his life. His name was Mayer Yacov Eisenstadt (he was the father of Rose Rashbaum). When he arrived in New York City in the mid 1920's his son would take him to the New York City Public Library on 42nd Street in Manhattan every week. Mayer would stay at the library all day and peruse book after book about astronomy. He had a passion to learn about the planets and the stars and a thirst for scientific knowledge. How ironic, that four generations later, Mayer's great-great-grandson Sky would become a scientist and pursue an academic career at such esteemed levels. A piece of Mayer had transcended down to Sky....a piece of a generation past.From what I know and have learned about Sky, the generations past would have been proud to have him as their progeny. His life continued to ignite many of the same sparks as those who walked before him . His soul is now with theirs. He made his contribution to this earth....in many ways beyond what most contribute in lives lived twice as long.
I see that on September 22nd there will be a memorial for Sky in Topanga, California. How befitting it is that the memorial will take place on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, a day to remember, a day to reflect. I will be in our synagogue on that day. This year I will be saying Yizkor (Prayers of Remembrance) for my Mother for the first time. I lost my Mom earlier this year. I too will be saying Yizkor for Sky, my cousin who I did not know personally, whose blood I shared, whose ancestry I share. My prayers will be with all of yours....May Sky Rashby rest in peace....Amen.
Michael J. Moore
New City, New York
email: mmooreesq@aol.com
Thank You Sky
Sky's death is the first death I've really cared about; the first death that has touched me. As grieving is new to me, I find it hard to believe how remarkably supportive everyone has been since hearing about his death. It's really a testament to how much Sky has touched all of us, even those who barely knew him like myself. The posts here have each been deeply and personally heartfelt and their tones surprisingly reassuring, reaffirming, and optimistic, reminding me of Sky with each word. I can't remember any particular thing Sky said now owing to bad memory, but I remember much more the simple way he made me feel at ease, excited, or happy sometimes seemingly from just being around him. For me, emotional memory endures long after other forms, and the response I've thus far witnessed only strengthens that memory of Sky. I'm so glad I got to meet him last summer before his sudden death. He was such an open person that I doubt that those organizing the memorial have misinterpreted his always good intentions in life. Even in his memory he continues to better those who knew him and benefit those causes he most cared about, and I can only hope to follow the excellent example he has set in his 28 years alive. Thank you Sky for everything you've given and continue to give, and thank you to everyone for sharing here and letting me know that I'm not alone.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Simple Little Memories - One Great Big Life
You were the first to tell me about the dice gods, and the ways in which individual dice could be trained for better outcomes. I will always remember sitting in your room and looking at your twenties and twelves and even your sixes or fours, pondering them as if these inanimate pieces of plastic really did have souls. That they could - in fact - be taught and trained. You have had such an impact on my life that even now I cannot look at dice without thinking of them as if they are alive, the living conduits of chance and story. What wild and silly nerds we were.
You were the first to teach me about bulletin board systems and the slowly growing internet back in the days when a 28.8 bps modem was considered impressive and a 56.6 was almost as amazing as the notion of a flying automobile. I still remember our late night secret chat sessions which would last so long into the night - telling stories that were saturated with heroism and honor and family all thanks to your desire to see such values expressed - long before the days when an instant messager had even been considered. But more importantly than that? You gave to me a wealth of memories from a friendship that even now makes me grin and laugh outrageously during the most awkward moments, you gave so much love to the world and cultivated so much happiness in those who loved you back and I know that my life was forever changed by the effortless generosity of your heart.
Are you gone?
I do not believe I can answer that question. In my heart I can still feel your presence, the unique fingerprint of your kindness and attention. It still feels as though someday we will be standing in the very same room as one another, catching up on life and all the things that we have done with ourselves. I could be poetic but all I can do is honestly express how I feel in this happy moment, a moment in which I cannot help but remember being in your jeep as you sped along the pacific coast highway at a time of night which was well past my fourteen year old curfew. I remember looking up at you as I thought about how amazing you were and how much I admired you for all that you had given me and all that you were giving the world. There was thunder that night and every time it crashed its shockwave shook that old yellow jeep as though it were paper. I had never realized that thunder could have such an impact and now I find myself thinking the very same thing about you, really about kind hearted people in general.
I cry now when I see a photograph of you or hear about the brilliant things you were doing with your life. But I also laugh because in those moments it feels as if all the love and kindness you put out into this world - even the righteous anger you felt toward the oppression of so many others who were less fortunate - has not yet been diminished. I do not believe that it ever will be either, and although I cannot answer the question of whether or not you are gone ... there is some part of me that remains happy - while still honoring the loss as your example taught me to do - which believes the impact of your life will never be lost to the world. It will always remain, standing beside those of us who love you and were fortunate enough to have known you while lifting up those who still need the helping hand which your heart has always offered. Maybe it is an inappropriate poeticism but like the thunder which shook things that I once believed could not be shook, your life and love will reverberate forever and continue to help change lives and worlds for the better. We all love you and we all miss you, and I believe that we all will see you again. If not in spirit then in action taken to improve this world for all. Because that is where you have always lived most valiantly.
In Loving Dedication to Sky
When Great Trees Fall
by Maya Angelou
by Maya Angelou
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Endless Sky
Such a fine thread tethered you here
For a time, some time
This time
Fractal prayers paint the endless sky
Your sky, my sky
Our Sky
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Remembering Sky
This is a space to gather and remember Sky Rashby, our much-loved friend, brother, fellow traveler. We miss you Sky. You're in our hearts forever.
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