Sarah and Karen

It’s the side streets that often attract. After the boats and canals, after Bruno and the history lesson, I happened upon an out of the way restaurant, a little place. A few tables. The smell of garlic, olive oil, and herbs permeating the intimate space. An open kitchen with a friendly face.

It’s Sarah and Lionel’s place,

hard earned after years in an office for Lionel and the back kitchens of fine restaurants for Sarah. The couple moved in just a year ago, hoping for a simpler life, one in which they could set the hours and call the shots. It’s working out. They’re happier. Spending more time with their children, Vasco and Miriam, meeting new friends, and for Sarah, creating new dishes her mother would appreciate.

Sarah and Lionel are vegan. “Meat murders,” says Sarah. “Mushrooms make the dish and will save the planet.”

After an incredible meal of shitake alheira with fresh vegetables lingering in sweet chili sauce, Sarah sat down as Lionel cleaned up.

Born in 1974, the year of the “peaceful revolution”, Sarah is widely read and well informed with opinions that support her liberal leanings. She knows all about Trump, January 6, the overturning of Roe v. Wade, and the ongoing threats to democracy. She’s disturbed about the direction our country is going but hopeful nevertheless. “It’s America”, she said.

We spoke about Portuguese politics, the battle for abortion rights, green energy, the decriminalization of drugs and emphasis on rehabilitation. And, most recently, the Death with Dignity debate. Congress has approved progressive legislation. The president won’t sign it. The courts will now decide. Sarah is unsure of the outcome, “but it’s the right thing.”

Shortly after returning to my room, an email arrived from a friend in Maine.

Karen was a survivor of child abuse, a teacher, mentor of the young, fierce advocate for survivors of domestic violence, writer, artist, shamaness, lover of the natural world, a believer that death and dignity should be inseparable, a dear friend.

I could write much about Karen. Instead, I’ll share Karen’s email which she gave me permission to do.

Hello my Dear Friend,

I have sad news.

The risk of staying has outweighed the quality of staying. Infection and organ failure are too close, and I thought why the heck would I stick around for some horrendous end when I can peacefully go. Today at Noon the doctor arrives. Usually people can drink the medication alone, but my tricky system needs some special care. Donna, Bruce, Pam, and Charlie will be here for the dying. Ali is not coming due to her early pregnancy and because it is so damn hard saying goodbye. People are invited over after I've passed to see me or just support Charlie. The Shamanistas are going to clear the space after the funeral home takes my body. It’s been a long haul and I'm ready to give up this body. Friends are filling the house with flowers. I will leave my bedroom garden filled with white flowers. I imagine leaving from the crown. I love you and am grateful for our years of connection. You've been a good friend, teacher, and fellow traveler. I lived vicariously through your adventures and accomplishments. If not for my cancer, I believe I would have followed your example of writing and contemplating through my retirement. It is painful to leave our relationship that feels like there is so much more to talk about. Please do not share this until after my death.

Be well and continue your wonderful adventures with openness and love.

Goodbye

Lots and Lots of Love,

Karen

Pa sat with me as I processed, providing solace as best he could. “Death is not the greatest loss in life,” he said quietly. “The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”

Karen suffered many losses in her life. The death of soul was not one of them. Karen moved on at 2PM, survived by her friend and partner, Charlie.