Pluvial Gardens

Me at Pluvial Gardens. The sign was just installed this week. Kyle would have gotten a kick out of his poem becoming a real garden.

Into Words

                                              At Pluvial Gardens. June 17, 2014.

In the Garden

 

Tulips in bloom at Pluvial Gardens, May 2014.
Photo by Meta L. Knapp

And So This Was Christmas

Going into this holiday season, I wasn’t sure how my family would cope, being our first Christmas without Kyle. But—I don’t know how to put this in words—it was good, and I think it’s because we chose to remember him rather than mourn him. We pulled together and had sweatshirts made that feature his Pluvial Gardens book cover on the front and text from the poem on the back with his name and life years. We all put our shirts on and then went outside for a photo in the snow. I’ve worn it each day since. Maybe, I’ll give it a rest tomorrow—maybe.

My sister surprised her husband with this ornament—the photo below was taken by my brother-in-law, Bob—a symbol of a father and son's shared passion for music, and he got her a sapphire necklace, the stone for Kyle's birth month September. Very touching. Christmas 2013 for us was about a family that lost a very special member, about how we got knocked down but not out, how we took as much of the sting out of our pain as we could, how we’re stronger now because he’s still with us in his words and in spirit. Always will be.

I hope all of you find some peace this season. From my family to yours, we wish you the best of New Years.

Pluvial Gardens

The early stages of Pluvial Gardens.

My sister Meta along with her husband Bob and Bob's brother Gary have all been working on the Pluvial Gardens—a memorial garden not only for my nephew Kyle, but also our father whose ashes are there, our mom who is very much alive but is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s, and a family friend who passed away on the same grounds a decade plus back. In this picture, Meta is sitting between two hearts outlined with rocks and filled in with red mulch—that was Bob’s idea, a nice touch. This garden is being constructed on the spot where the house fire claimed my nephew's life. Friends, family, and even some folks who hadn't known Kyle have pledged flowers, money, and time toward creating the garden. The outpouring of love is on a level I've never experienced before.

Also, my niece Kayla recently had this extraordinary piece of art tattooed on her arm. She chose a favorite shot of her brother, and I can see why she picked it. It has the essence of who he was, and the tattoo artist captured this to perfection. I feel like I don't say it enough to her, and so I want to say it now: I’m so proud of my niece in all that she has accomplished and what’s yet to come.

I am one who no longer believes in closure—not when you love someone as much as we loved Kyle. But I do believe you can keep the memory alive, and that brings moments of peace which are very welcomed. And on that note, my sister Meta wants to thank all the writers and readers who have showed so much kindness for her son—the people who reached out with all the support for Kyle's work in the form of reviews and spreading the word.

I hope you don't mind me talking a bit about my family but that is what this old soldier is thinking about on Veteran's Day 2013. And I hope this post finds you all doing well.

Against the falling stone

Sketch from one of Kyle's notebooks.

WATERFALL
Kyle J. Knapp

The dripping blonde blushing iris of the waterfall,
Wonders
And wanders,
Wearing her cold, worn willow-vair lashes
   Against the falling stone.

From Pluvial Gardens & Other Poems.

A Grim Week

It’s been an emotionally grim week. My nephew, Kyle Knapp, lost his life in a house fire. He had been living in the home I grew up in. I went back for the funeral service on Saturday and to be with my sister and her family. Try to find needed closure. But I soon realized it’s not to be, not yet, even though Kyle has told me, 'It’s ok, Uncle David.' It just hurts too damn much. Still, I can see the road ahead and what I need to do for him.

You see, Kyle sent me dozens of poems and several short stories over the last year following the release of Pluvial Gardens, and while the first collection of poetry is striking, what follows is ten-fold beyond. Kyle had begun digging deeper within himself and pulled up astonishing insight from his soul. I can’t even imagine where his art would have taken him as his writing continued to season over the next decade.

Now it’s my turn do justice to Kyle’s writing and get the next collection of poems out. I’m going to take my time and get it right. Kyle had said that having the Pluvial Gardens eBook published was the highlight of his life. That does my heart good. I want to get Gardens out in paperback very soon (something he had wanted) and begin doing inventory on just how much of a body of work Kyle left behind. I’ve found the first eight chapters of a novel he had emailed to me, unfortunately, I think the rest has been lost. But it’s a novel we had talked about, and maybe in time I can finish it for him.

I wish you had known Kyle. He was a wonderful, caring human being. Yes, there were times he was difficult, but he always came back to say, “Sorry, David.” It saddens me he didn’t conquer his alcoholism, but he touches on that in the unreleased poetry, and maybe, just maybe, it will help someone else. I plan to dedicate a significant portion of the sales of all his books to an organization that my sister feels Kyle would have wanted.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Kyle and I have some work to do.