Wednesday, May 16, 2018
Greg O'Connor was my father's younger brother, born just four years before me. In many ways, he was more like an older brother to me than an uncle, except that for most of our lives we saw each other only a few times a year. I am the eldest child in my family, and Greg's presence in my life was very special. He took the role of leader and protector naturally with me, and this was a great gift. You who are oldest siblings know the weariness that can come with that place when we are children. Everyone knows how, when walking a new path, it's sometimes lovely to have someone more experienced show you the way. This photo is from a few years ago, when Greg and my youngest brother Dave and I attended a Dark Star Orchestra concert in Philly.
Greg died last week, at age 65. My brother Dave and I were with him when he passed, Dave holding his hand, and me with hands to his heart and head. Dave and I shared Power of Attorney for Greg, and had talked with him about what he did and did not want at the end of his life. Even so - knowing that he did not want to be resuscitated, or any sort of "heroic," invasive procedures - it was still hard to stand up to the hospital staff, whose training and mission is about preserving life, sometimes it seems, at all costs.
As a loving niece, my concern was that Greg be allowed the opportunity for a "good" death: that he be supported in a loving, clear, and gentle way in his transition. We had only about a day and a half from when he was found at home unconscious, and his passing. I talked to him in hospital, even though he appeared unresponsive. In those last hours, I found myself saying, "It's like stepping into the next room, Greg. As easy as that." And I could see all the people waiting for him in that next room. Greg loved to party, and there was a big party waiting for him on the Other Side, filled with laughing, happy people. And it appeared that, when he passed, he did just step, with grace and ease, across that threshold and into that next room.
A song about love and death, I hear the Grateful Dead's "Brokedown Palace" and I remember my uncle, Greg.
... Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and knees, i will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed in the waterside,
In my time, i will roll, roll, roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside i will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
River going to take me, sing sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back home.
It's a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come since i first left home.
Goin' home, goin' home, by the riverside i will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the bank's green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well, i love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
Songwriters: Jerome J. Garcia / Robert C. Hunter
Brokedown Palace lyrics
© Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
