Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Obituary and Celebration of Life

Belfast- David DemerĂ©, 51, died Nov 1, 2010 from bone marrow cancer, 7 1/2 years after being told he had a six month life expectancy. David lived gallantly, both with cancer and without, and died at home with friends and family by his side. He was born in Marietta, GA, April 18, 1959, the third of four children of Margaret and Charles DemerĂ©. He spent his youth in the Cleveland Park neighborhood of Washington, DC, attended the Quaker Sidwell Friends School there, and graduated from St. Paul's School in Concord, NH. During his Washington years, David formed several lifelong friendships at Macomb Playground. David possessed two qualities that all who knew him would instantly identify: his boundless enthusiasm and his detail-oriented planning and craftsmanship. Beginning at at an early age, these abilities facilitated innumerable outdoor adventures and deep encounters with the natural world. At age 15, David and three friends hiked the Long Trail through the Green Mountains. Without adult chaperones, they completed the 260-mile trip in 30 days. The next summer, he and a friend took a summer-long bike ride from Washington to Maine and back. His practical skills and notable Southern charm persuaded the parents that the teens were capable of venturing forth on their own. Later, David traversed the rest of the U.S. by bicycle. David found huge satisfaction in sharing the wonders of nature with family, friends, and young people. He attended College of the Atlantic, focusing on Outdoor Ecological Education, and worked as an environmental educator at Tanglewood in Lincolnville, Maine. David’s happiest moments were marked by whoops of joy, whether upon scaling precipitous peaks, plunging into frigid mountain lakes or ocean waters, or cutting the waves with strong winds filling his sails. He loved sailing, and also worked as a sailing instructor and made boat deliveries. As a member of Come Boating! in Belfast, David taught youth and adult sailing and founded a youth rowing program. David danced with joy at contras, ballroom venues, and outdoors at Belfast Summer Nights, where he, in his yellow crocs, was frequently the first person up dancing, always exhorting others to join in. David’s essential quest was to live a meaningful life: to do meaningful work, explore inner and outer worlds, and always strive to do better. In 1985 David learned about Co-Counseling and pursued it fervently. Over the years he learned to be easier on himself and others, and to be an engaged listener. Even in his final weeks, he was trying to do a better job loving people and loving himself. It is possible that his efforts to live with, beat, and eventually die with cancer became his most successful pursuit in making life meaningful to him and those around him. He sought a spiritual life, grounded in nature and nurtured by numerous Christian, Buddhist, and Self inquiry studies, most recently through the Belfast UU Church, Non Violent Communication, The Work of Byron Katie, poetry of Rumi and Danna Faulds, and his marriage to Tara. He took care of his body with plentiful exercise and good diet, and his strength of body and spirit kept him alive through three rounds of stem cell transplants, and repeated chemotherapy and radiation. David loved carpentry and crafted a low-impact, self-sufficient lifestyle: renovating old homes, building a greenhouse, and cutting firewood. He built boats with his sons Seth and Tyler, helped build Toddy Pond School, and was an involved and loving homeschooling father, He was also a WERU volunteer, Belfast Coop Board Member, soccer coach, ecofeminist, singer, drummer, and visionary. He was a board member and chairman of Debley Foundation, a family charitable foundation working to improve the lives of disadvantaged women and girls around the world. David traveled to Kenya with Expanding Opportunites to help build housing, and to Louisiana with his St. Paul's Class of ‘77 to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity after Hurricane Katrina. With David as their drummer, the St. Paul’s alumni played a short rock-n-roll concert to cheer on the weary long- standing Habitat volunteers. David was a life-long peace activist. He worked for Peace Action Maine on door-to-door campaigns, organized conferences for War Tax Resistors, and was once arrested during a nonviolent protest at the Bangor Air National Guard base, spending the night in jail. A dedicated member of the Waldo County Peace and Justice Group, David founded the Waldo County Peace Activist Award in 2005 to support graduating seniors pursuing peace studies. David is survived by his parents, Margaret and Charles; wife Tara and stepson Cameron; siblings Bill, Jodie, and Paul; three children, Lucretia, Seth, and Tyler, their partners, and their mother Chris; three grandchildren, Minh, Ada, and Minh’s newborn brother; and countless cherished family and friends. He will be missed. A memorial celebration of David’s life will be held Saturday Nov. 20th, at 11 am, at the First Church, 8 Court Street in Belfast. Following the service will be a potluck lunch and contradance. Donations in David's honor may be sent to the Waldo County Peace Activist Award's fiscal agent, "Belfast Area Friends Meeting," with the memo notation "Peace Award" c/o C. Biebel, Treasurer, 242 Fisher Road, Monroe, ME 04951.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

we bury David

november 3 2010

gather on cool sunny november morning
at house where he lived and died.
body in boat box is carried to black van by sons and friends.
long, slow drive away from the sea to the farmland of the sons .
brown leaves rain down on us as we drive on this sunny cool morning.
boat box moved from van to
hay wagon
and there, one son hammers each nail to seal the lid of the boat box with the man's body inside of it. all watching. bells chiming.
on the hay wagon
pulled by 2 beautiful, black draft horses,
the boat box rides.
down the road,
into the field,
along the river. bells chiming.
with mother, father, wife, sons, daughter, grandbabies, friends following.
the ground is brown
the sun shines,
the air cool, clear.
the boat box now carried by hands of friends and family up a hill above the river,
to the clearing made just yesterday by the sons. bells chiming.
we all gather by the hole; nearby the boat box now rests. bells chiming
the boat box waits by the hole
for all the blessings and goodbyes and tears. bells chiming.
as the blessings are said,
the leaves rain down through the sunny, bare trees
with sweet words spoken. bells chiming.
singing bells chime over and over again as a soothing mantra that holds us all, each one.
words are spoken that bring tears to listeners and speakers alike as the sun warms us all.
oak leaves cushion our feet. bells chiming
blessings, words of friendship, poems and songs frame the setting and hold each soul
as we wait for mother earth to take him back. bells chiming.
strong sons lower father, husband, son, grandfather, friend
into the hand dug hole. bells chiming.
a son puts the first shovel of earth into the hole that now holds the boat box, saying goodbye. bells chiming.
the father and the mother and another son and a daughter and many friends and some of the children put shovels of dirt in the hole. bells chiming.
we all say good bye, one by one, with a bit of soil. bells chiming.
all join in to bury the boat box with the man's body inside of it. bells chiming.
bury it in the ground under 6 ft of rich soil under oak trees and sun and birds and wind. bells chiming.
every shovel-ful takes us another step away from him.
some danced on the grave to pack it down
soil mounded higher and higher, just so.
sticks mark the corners. bells chiming
soon a stone will mark the place. bells chiming

the bells stop.
the people disperse, some to a big oak tree down by the river,
the children lead to the tree, they are ready to move on.
one climbs high
then back down
then we all run thru oak woods to catch a ride back home
on the hay wagon.
one less among us now.

beautiful open casket full of love

I hope you all are up for this. For balance, I am including this photo of David and his childhood buddy Mika. This is early September, just two months ago. I guess it helps me with perspective to remember that David really did live life as fully as possible, including sailing a few times in the last weeks of his life.

I also want to let you know that the photos below are of the open casket. The first two are of the beautiful offerings that were loving placed by so many friends and family, to say goodbye and honor David, and also of the space in the barn that cradled the casket. Please note his yellow dancing shoes! The final two include his face. It's entirely optional to view or not. If you do, also notice the big maple leaves, brought by a friend from David's house on Head of Tide, and the love notes, the book of beloved Donna Faulds poems, the herbs and kale because "David loved kale!!", and his hand embroidered UU nametag. He doesn't really look like himself. I guess that's another reason to include the live David here above. The next post will be the burial.

love, Tara




















Just Now

Waking up this morning I realize how outer focused I've been the past weeks and days. When I reread last nights post before submitting it, I noticed that I was out, out, out. Looking out for comfort, looking out for being ok or not, looking to outer circumstances to determine how to feel, how to be. Painful! I rested quietly upon waking today, breathing deeply, noticing I had returned to myself. Then I sat quietly and breathed for a few minutes, a mini meditation, the first in weeks. I feel calm, relaxed.

Yesterday a woman stopped by with flowers and a photo of David in Kenya shortly before he was diagnosed. She shared that she's kept that photo on her healing alter all these years. David knew she was holding him this way, and now she was bringing me the photo to have for the 20th. I was feeling so scattered I didnt' settle down long enough to really hear her. She said she was just here for a moment, I mumbled that there is so much adjusting to do, and her reply as she opened the door to leave was "yes, and . . . just Now, . . . just Now," a smile and she was gone. It took me till late last night to realize that I've been avoiding experiencing Now. I'm not sure what I've been afraid of, but I havent' wanted to be Here, so I've been Out There, and so no one has been Here, and I experience that as Lonely!!

This morning I notice a willingness to be, to see what is here now, in the present moment unencumbered by thoughts of past or future. That feels like wide open space inside, and moving slowly, with quiet curiosity, noticing right now what life is presenting. A few days ago a friend said "Life knows what it's doing." I loved that so much I wrote it down and posted it in the kitchen. When I hear that, I notice I relax, become part of things instead of believing I am separate, and it feels right.

Thank you Meredith for the "Just Now" teaching of yesterday. If you want, please come by again, or call. I'd like very much to visit with you.


Saturday, November 6, 2010

grief

Today I feel so raw and lost. I guess when David died, I was so grateful that it went as well as it did, I felt full for a couple days. I had taken the wedding ring off his finger and added it to my two, so I wore our three rings, and I felt like he was here with me, in me. Then when we buried him, it was incredibly beautiful, so perfectly him, the words, the sorrow, the dancing, and there were people there on both sides of me most of the day, loving me, supporting me. I felt peaceful and full of the images of recent days.

The hardest part for me was when his casket was at the bottom of the hole, before any dirt was thrown over. It was just so far down, his body unreachable. So final. A bit later I climbed to the top of the little hill in the new cemetary, listened to the stream to the west, noticed there were green fields visible through the trees to the north and south, and then looked up at the sunlight and when I felt the warm rays upon my face the words quickly came "Oh, David! " I felt him there in the rays of light.

Later at a friends house it happened again. I had been inside talking, and when I stepped out in the sunshine, sat down in a chair and curled my body in it for comfort, then raised my face to the sun, again it came "Oh, David! You're the sun." That seemed right to me, David was such a source of light, healing and nourishment for me, and for so many others. Right that he would be the sun now, available most of every day to all of us.

That night when I was washing up before bed, I saw the three rings on my finger and knew to take them off. It was time. I'm not married anymore. I'm a widow. My husband is dead. My finger feels empty, unfamilar, like my house and my life.

The next two days I mostly felt relieved. This has been such a long journey of illness and health and illness and health and illness. And I've just been around for 2 1/2 years of it! I can't imagine the stamina it took for David, and all his family and friends, to do this for 7 1/2 years. I've been grieving the loss of him since October of 2008, when I witnessed his illness taking over, and spent 5 months traveling to Illinois with him for Chemotherapy and finally in February his third stem cell transplant. It was brutal, the whole thing. I'm happy it bought him some more time for loving and dancing and seeing his children grow, and seeing my child grow, and helping me be the best mom I could be and teaching me how to love and trust and be husband and wife. I waited my whole life to learn these things, and David was totally available to teach them to me. He valued marriage so much, and honest communication, and safety, and showing up. He worked so hard at it, with himself and with me. He is the only man I have ever known who would move closer when things were hard between us. Like a miracle it was, loving him.

Meanwhile the cancer and cancer treatment were brutal. The idea was to take him as close to death as possible without actually killing him, and then to bring him back to life with the new cells. It worked, but I cried so much during that time, just cried and cried whenever I was out of his room. I also ate sugar in the cafeteria, trying to not feel. It's a good thing they didn't sell alcohol because I probably would have gone for that instead. Anything not to feel.

Not feeling is kind of what's going on now. I had a clear job the past 6 weeks, care for David, make sure he had what he needed, make sure there was always someone here with him, keep the household running, care for Cameron, do a little self-care for me. Now I wander around the house, feeling empty and confused. The first days I was so tired, but couldn't really sleep. I've been so exhausted and I know my brain has not been working fully. Yesterday I went to yoga for the first time in months and found that I was scared. I have been neglecting my body, and didn't know if I could count on it to be strong when I needed it to. But it was ok, and I think I need to be stretched in unfamiliar directions to unstick what is stuck here. Then I had an accupuncture treatment here at the house. Cameron had stayed home from school sick, grief doing it's job on his lungs now too, so he was treated as well.

When I had my first treatment earlier this summer, Elizabeth explained that sometimes long standing depression goes away after a few months, in addition to improvements in whatever other condition is being treated. That sounded good to me as I have experienced depression at times in my life, and certainly felt overwhelmed and sad about the emminent loss of David. And I have noticed things getting more stable in me. This day, she said my pulses were all there, but very weak, except for heart protection, which was very strong. Her aim was to spread the life force around. I mostly dozed while she worked, and when she left I stayed on the table and slept for more than an hour. When I awoke, I was so relaxed I could hardly hold myself up for hours! Amazing letting down of defenses, opening of availability to be here again.

Today I just felt lost. Cameron wanted me with him almost constantly, and I tired of it. Few people called, one stopped by, and I felt lonely. The house is a wreck, reminders of David everywhere, chaos. I did a lot of dishes, cooked some comfort foods, and snuggled with Cameron.

Some progress in form happened as well. Things are coming together for the service. The sweet many who photographed our wedding came by and we found a photo for the obituary and also made a plan for slideshows on computers at the reception.

Speaking of the obituary, if you know of something significant that you think should be included in the obit, please email it to me by Monday morning at tarademere@gmail.com.

And thanks to the folks who have emailed info about beds available for the weekend of 20/21. Any of you who are coming and need a place to stay, please let me know as there are people in our community who will welcome you.

I also learned how to move emailed photos onto the blog, so next will be a compilation of three camera's worth of documentation of the burial. Hope it gives you a sense of the magesty of it all. Again, I have the sense David is so pleased about how we are honoring him.

love, Tara

Friday, November 5, 2010

food for us

Hello sweet community,

Thank you to everyone who has brought us food. I just want to let you know that Cameron and I are not eating wheat, dairy, corn or beef. Up till now there have been many hands here, and there will be people here on the 20th to eat anything that includes those items, and, if you want to feed Cam and I, this is what we can eat. (and sorry I didn't spread the word more widely sooner). (As a side note, we are feeling much better and the person who identified our sensitivities is Dr. Susan Miller who spoke at the Belfast Coop last month. Vibrant Life Wellness Center 563-6060 She works in Newcastle, Boston and New York. I highly recommend the process!)

Thanks again for supporting us with yummy food!!! And as for David's Service on the 20th, certainly everything doesn't have to be wheat, dairy, corn and beef free, but it would be wonderful if there were labels for anyone who needs them.

love, T and C

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Celebration of Life, Saturday November 20th 11am

Hello All,

We have confirmed Saturday November 20th at 11am for David's Celebration of Life at the Unitarian Universalist Church, 37 Miller Street, Belfast Maine. There will be a service with luncheon afterward. If you have a particular story you'd like to share about David, or photo you want to bring along, please do.

4 Hrs driving time from Boston, 2 hrs driving from Portland, 1 hr from Bangor. We can help with housing (some beds, some camping style, in our home and others in the neighborhood), with pick-ups from Bangor, with bus info and more directions if needed. Please come friday night and stay the weekend if you'd like. Belfast is a beautiful, fun town. David lived here 25 years and would love that you walked in his shoes for a while if you can and desire to.

There will be a gathering at our home afterward for those who want to continue to visit together. That address is 125 City Point Road, and is 2 1/8 miles from the church, a very easy, pretty drive by the Passagasawakeag River where David spent many hours walking, biking, skinny-dipping, kayaking, and contemplating.

I felt David in the sunshine yesterday, and feel his appreciation for everything we're all doing to honor and love him now. Hope to see you Nov 20th!

love, Tara