Disturbing

Events of the past few days make me think of what Obi-Wan Kenobi says when the planet Alderaan is blown up: that there's been "a great disturbance in the force."

That's how it's felt, with altogether too many deaths, both global and personal.

The globe-shaking event has been the deaths of 157 people on the Ethiopian Airlines flight. So many of the victims were involved in humanitarian or environmental causes. Today's newspaper headlined their profiles with the tag, "They wanted to change the world." No wonder the UN called its members to stand and observe a moment of silence. 

Yet there've been even more deaths -- what might have to be called a spate of them. Thursday alone was the day one of our best known poets Patrick Lane died, just days shy of his 80th birthday, a day when his family planned to celebrate.

Sadly, he wasn't even the only one to go that day, not even the only poet. Carl Leggo, a poet and teacher at UBC, a man who inspired many Vancouver writers, succumbed to cancer on the same day.

Perhaps more quietly, at least with less public notice, the son of a longtime friend died that same day -- of the identical cancer as his mother, right down to it appearing in exactly the same spot.

So the weekend was one of sadness and remembering. But this particular rift in the force hadn't yet finished announcing itself.

Yesterday morning, Joe Rosenblatt, yet another of our country's great writers breathed his last. He'd been ailing for a long while, but still, no one was ready for this. His publisher was in the final stages of printing covers so he could bind Joe's new book, Bite Me! The only blessing in Joe's passing is the fact that the first review of the book came out on the weekend, and hearing that a friend had taken the time to read it to him.

As for the rest of us, certainly, we go on. But not without feeling saddened, diminished. Even the hellebore's blossom, outside this morning, looks as though it too feels the need to grieve.