When Eloquence Fails: A Run-On Tribute to Andrea Gibson's Memorial

My teeny, tiny something I can muster up, in memory of a poet who blew my mind and in honor of their peeps who knocked their memorial out of the Gddamn park

Chelsea here - Still digesting one of the greatest honors I can remember in a long time, that directly intersects with the purpose and mission of Grand Exit. I’m writing today to share with you about that – the experience and privilege of attending Andrea Gibson's memorial tribute in Denver, where their slam poetry took deep root -- at Mercury Cafe (now called The Pearl). 

The event was Sunday, August 10, and I waited to share because I thought the words, marinating, would cook to completion and place themselves on a plate for me to offer here. They still haven’t, as the many-hour tribute left me in utter awe - of legacy, of community and of what can happen when we don’t let others sit in the shadows alone. When, instead, we walk each other home and back, home and back, then ultimately: home.

In case you missed their life while they were Earthside, I want you to know this about Andrea Gibson (they/them)…

• That they were a poet, writer, activist, author and performer. In fact, they were one of the most celebrated combinations of those things in the span of most of my life.
  

• That, among oh-so-many things, they were the 10th (and current) poet laureate of Colorado and the recent subject of the award-winning documentary, “Come See Me in the Good Light,” produced by lots of names you likely know: Tig Notaro, Glennon Doyle, Sara Bareilles, Brandi Carlile, and…and…and…
  

• They died of ovarian cancer last month, just shy of their 50th birthday.

  
  

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Back to August 10:

My dear friend Beth shared the invite with me to the event that Sunday, which would fit perfectly right because my sibling, Court, would be in town, and they, too, loved Andrea (and also Beth). So, we’d go together at 5 p.m. when doors opened. We’d be there just an hour, we thought, as Court had a flight to catch. By 8 p.m., dozens of tributes in – including one from Glennon and one from Andrea’s wife, Megan Falley (another brilliant writer worth knowing) – we were still there, weeping and laughing and thanking the gods above for Court’s continuously delayed flight. 

From the people who knew them best in the world, we could feel like we were getting to know this amazing, layered person in even more vivid color – so palpably that it felt like we were standing at the threshold to another world, where, no doubt, Andrea must be living now. 

It was death as the doorway; the portal; the balancing base of a wild see-saw. It was legacy that lingered. And it was life that filled the room, even more so at the end of the 31 readings, many hours in, than at the beginning.

Some things I heard:

• Who this person was to - and through - the people who knew them best
  

• Humor - dark, light and in between; alongside pain - felt while living through the definition and defense of hard things, like gender identity; and queerness; and making a living as a creative; and loving people with addiction; and living/dying with cancer, knowing the end will come before you ever wanted it to (without knowing, of course, when or how)
  

• Love, love and love - transmitted in the shape of an infinity sign, totally impossible to find a starting point and even less possible to stop from flowing

Some things I felt:

• Such closeness to a shared humanity, not only with the people in the room, but to the rawest parts of being a person that I, deep down, do really believe we all share
  

• Gratitude to have two people in my life - Beth and Court - who could be there to witness this absolute outpouring of beauty, so I didn’t have to be the only one in my world who knew what a night this was
  

• Deep, deep…as deep as it gets…humility, because what are the odds that, in all the years I could have been alive, with all the awareness and interests I could have (or not), I got to be alive and know about and be interested in Andrea Gibson while they were here to write and speak in a way that made my heart do the things their work made my heart do?!?!

. . .

Tamatha & I...

...had tickets to see Andrea Gibson live in Boston two years ago. We never made it. Andrea had to cancel that tour because of the recurrence of their cancer.

At that time, Tamatha was in the throws of scans that could have pointed her to similar news.  But it didn’t. And we’ll never know why things happen as they do, and we’ll never believe that they happen as they are meant to, unilaterally. But they happened how they happened, and I want to share this run-on email with run-on sentences and run-on feelings because this is the stuff. 

So, I hope this finds you feeling - whatever feelings are there and whatever reminds you that you have a pulse and that using it to relate to your feelings is a damn useful way to use it. 

I hope this finds you searching - for words, for inspiration, for a muse…and that you find something cool! 

And I hope this finds you motivated - to let the people in your life know you in a way that would leave someone with this kind of reaction to your legacy, bottled into a single evening. Because, yea…wow.

Thanks for letting this find you. 

Rest in peace & poetry, Andrea Gibson.

With gratitude for NOW, 

Chelsea