Requiem aeternam dona ets, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat ets.
Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion,
et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem.
Exaudi orationem meam,
ad te omnis caro veniet.
Requiem aeternam dona ets, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat ets.
Grant them eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them.
Thou, O God, art praised in Sion,
and unto Thee shall the vow
be performed in Jerusalem.
Hear my prayer, unto Thee shall all flesh come.
Grant them eternal rest, 0 Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them.
http://www.stmatthews.com/choir/mozartsrequiem.htm
req·ui·em
ˈrekwēəm/
noun
- (especially in the Roman Catholic Church) a Mass for the repose of the souls of the dead.
- a musical composition setting parts of a requiem Mass, or of a similar character.
- an act or token of remembrance.
Mayhap this is not the most blessed remembrance. But it’s what I remember.
A little slip of a girl with auburn hair and perfect tits standing in a robin’s egg blue change room in front of heavily stickered gun metal grey lockers announcing in a voice too loud to come from someone so tiny “this is not even my pussy, I can’t work with this. I am going home.”
I loved her in that moment and in so many moments after that.
Years of sexual repression dissipated in one glorious and hilarious statement that had a dozen strippers howling on a Friday night.
She had a new boyfriend and he loved fucking her.
She was so happy.
And a room full of dancers couldn’t help but share her joy.
That was 20 years ago this summer.
The last time I spoke to her was June 2014. The last thing we said was that we loved each other.
She’d been struggling with addiction on and off since we’d lost touch but she was clean then.
She died today.
I spent the morning looking through photographs. I knew I had one of her sunbathing on the roof of the bar we worked at.
We spent hours on the roof when we should have been working.
The day I quit doing drugs I was with her.
I had been with her, in her peach walled, adobe inspired apartment with that ridiculously huge cactus.
I had been there for 3 days. She lived right around the corner from my house but I could just not summon the courage to take the elevator ride of shame to get home.
I had brand new kittens, and although I had left plenty of food and water I was scared to go home and find them dead. They lived.
I watched a grown man sneeze the equivalent of an 8-ball into his hand, look around quickly to see if anyone was watching, shrug his shoulders and then eat his handful of snot and coke.
That was my final straw.
She got me cleaned up, out the door and home.
I quit after that and although she didn’t, she supported my decision and never offered me anything again.
I talked to 4 dancer friends from my past today.
Something is haunting me so badly.
We were all so fucked up back then. We did dangerous drugs, in dangerous places, with dangerous people. I don’t understand how some of us made it and some didn’t.
I went back through all of those old photos, pink change rooms and blue. Four different place, always pink or blue, with a few nights out thrown in. They are in the ‘stripper’ section of the box. Of all the girls I have photos of (probably 3 dozen) I speak to maybe 6. I loved all of them (except that one girl) at one time. A time in my life that was terrifying and tumultuous and that by no means did I have a right to survive it.
But I did.
I came out the other side.
I am sorry Mardi.
I am sorry that I didn’t make more of an effort to talk to you these past few years.
I am sorry that this is such a shitty eulogy, but this is what I remember about you. That you made everything funny and fun. That we felt like sisters a million years ago.
I am glad I have that one photo of you, sitting on the roof in that blue dress, smiling, beautiful and happy because that is exactly how I want to remember you.
To all the other girls I have trapped in time, in pictures and in memories. Just know that I love you. I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without you.
I hope we all find some peace one day, if not in this life maybe the next.
