My beloved Leonard Cohen has died. Eighty-two. Spry the last time I saw him perform live just a few years back, once in Las Vegas and once in LA. Ray and I even flew to Denver to see his concert there, but the performance was rained out. We considered going to London to hear that same concert.
Aw, I mean, my relationship with Leonard Cohen has been a real love affair dating all the way back to the ’60’s when I first heard “Suzanne” and “The Sisters of Mercy.” My three daughters grew up hearing me sing those songs to them every night at bedtime, along with a few from Joni Mitchell. I quoted Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem” at my sister’s funeral,
Ring the bell that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in
Just yesterday, I put on one of his albums because I was feeling blue. I instantly felt comforted, as much from the familiarity of his gravelly voice as from the absolute beauty of his poetic lyrics. He has helped me cope when life was tough, to feel happier when life was good and to understand how Christian symbolism could be used by a Jewish man turned Buddhist to convey universal truths about life and its vicissitudes:
And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water and he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower and when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him he said All men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them but he himself was broken long before the sky would open forsaken, almost human he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
I know nothing about the circumstances of Leonard Cohen’s death. What I do know is that he will remain alive for me as long as I am alive. He’s been a good friend, through thick and thin, and I hope that he now is at peace.
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