Sullivan James Burd – February 28, 1990 to September 9, 2010
“Something you can’t see, explained without words,
hidden with in your head,
Explained only once but ringing, on and on for eternity.
You have awakened to a state more absolute but a state less tangible,
And in this spiraling vortex you lose grasp of your senses as they diffuse into this new felt chaos.” You, a poem by Sullivan Burd
You are forever in our hearts,
You are, forever “Sully”
I remember the day you were born, Sullivan, 21 years ago today. Driving to Emmaus with your mom and Mariana, arriving at the midwife’s office, and being up all night. Seeing you for the first time – I was so happy and scared at the same time. You weighed 7#11oz. – and 7-11 became one of your favorite stops. We took you home, our little bundle of energy.
Your energy and open personality were the first gifts you gave to me. Today, I will smoke the cigar you gave me last year on my birthday. This is not the last gift you gave me, as your words and the example of living honestly keep giving me more and more. I am looking for answers to the questions that continuously swirl through my mind. “What ifs” badger me as your sweet smile comforts me, knowing that you are at peace.
“You take a walk in my mind. You say I’m not there but I’m dreaming of all that’s to become…The riddle of the mind will be just” from “Minds Riddle”, words & music by Sullivan Burd
In a dust cloud of memory I see you, my son
Shrouded in the haze of passing days
Standing alone in your moment, facing our present reality
You are now ageless and timeless,
preserved in a dream of late summer
Your sandals are worn out but your journey is new.
On wings of a speckled hawk, you have flown from us,
Leaving behind your words in our heart, your voice in our ears, a feather on the ground
and the memory of long brown hair on our neck.
December 25, 2010 (read to friends when visiting Sully’s Rock)
Sully, my oldest son, my sensitive one,
I cannot think of you as gone, or sleeping.
I think of you as traveling, on the move,
seeing new places, gathering new friends.
From an early age, you were on the move,
Always exploring,
Never arriving.
I wish for you the journey of discovery
And a destination of fulfillment
Sully, you have arrived,
I will miss you!
December 7, 2010
Please, Keep giving me signs that you know that I love you,
That I know you are ok,
Keep your spirit at peace;
God has spoken to me through the simplicity of your life.
Let the signs of Sullivan in nature float in front of my eyes
on wings of hawks and edges of snowflakes.
I need your soothing voice to warm me, I need your caring touch to sooth me,I need your honest mind to focus me,I need your reassuring look and happy smile to know that no trouble in this world really matters.
Come to me with your true hug, filled with love at the end of the day,
let me know everything will be ok.
Remind me of you, today, Sully,The true spirit of you that I know will never die.
I know with all my heart, your spirit will live forever, where you left it — in all of us.
November 10, 2010
Today, I hear the cry of the hawk again in the distance, farther away from where he was before. I was sad that I may not hear it until Spring.
Sullivan, this is the morning, 2 months ago that I found you on your rock.
The future grieves over the ashes of Sullivan, knowing the potential it has lost.
The present is happy for the positive lessons of friendship and giving he left for us today. History smiles on the milestones of spiritual connectedness that he achieved in his 20 years.
Sullivan, I cry for you every day. The vision of you riding your bike down the road to the park for the last time is burned in my memory. I miss you terribly.
Today, this morning, I hear the lonesome cry of a hawk in the autumn-draped trees behind our house; each morning, he cries, and I believe it’s for you. I first heard him the day we lost you, Sully. When we celebrated your life in that beautiful field in Tinicum, a hawk circled above us. When I left that field, I found a hawk’s feather on the ground, so I took it to the rock where I found you.
One month ago, on this morning, you left us. Each morning I cry for you. I miss you, Sully, my beautiful and sensitive son.
