I love little bundles, medium bags, large sacks … But mostly the mystery of what they could contain

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Robert Richard Kairovicious

Robert Richard Kairovicius
December 01 1955 – November 25 2018

Passed peacefully while in care at the Juravinski Cancer Hospital in Hamilton Ontario.

His original prognosis caused his life expectancy to be limited to LAST December 2017!!!

Yet, with dignity, humor and great determination he surpassed all of the odds and survived all of the treatments. We took it day by day, step, by every new, step.

However on Wednesday November 21 we had an unexpected emergency visit to the hospital, due to complications caused by his feeding tube. Luckily that evening he had stabilized and the complications were being remedied . Thursday he was in good spirits and looked very good. Friday he sounded great, as well as on Saturday. He was sleeping alot but we talked on and off through text and telephone. We thought that he would be home on Monday unless something unexpected occurred.

On Sunday morning, the nurses stated he experienced a sudden shortness of breath, and then peacefully stopped breathing within a few minutes. A very quick passing.

Robert had very firm orders that he did not wish to be resusitated if a need ever arose. So he passed as he wished: without prolonged pain, without being a burden, with his faculties intact and with great dignity.

In 1989 Robert was my first love and first public, and very real, relationship with a man. I am so honored that he chose to spend his last two years sharing the house with Chris May and I. I am so honored and grateful for friends and family who have supported us through this tumultuous time.

What remained constant through all of this, is my renewed belief that there is great beauty in life …. even while death continuously sits as a guest at the same table.

Bizarrely, my beloved Sister, Samm Stocker passed on this day five years ago. So Robert will have great company. Along with Geoffrey Haberman whose celebration of life I will be attending on December 03.

So … with a five fold kiss, I bid Robert adieu this morning and wished him blessings on his continued journey.

Uisce Beah!

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Morning two

Bird calls , solo bird,

Perhaps he has an announcement.

Day two,

yesterday I denied it.

Morning two, it is COOL.

Do I need a jacket?

He asks inside my head.

Later, I will decide, later, ask me later…

The morning glories are talking


Can I get a new lunch box for school?

You don’t go to school, he says inside my head.

Can’t we pretend I do? I say

out loud ,

to him

inside my bed.

I could feel him smile.

What colour ? He asks.

Purple I squeal .

The dog

lifted his nonexistent brow.

I smile.

Brodie dog

wants an orange one,

he will be coming


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Past lives.

So many lived

since this body was born.

Almost half a century of individual pursuits,

each one a life unto itself .

I was a small child living in THAT town.

I was a bigger child living in that town.

I was a lonely young child in that other town.

I was an adolescent faking my way through first experiences in those towns.

In that life I escaped to a city and stated who,

became who I wanted to be.

Said WHO I thought I ….

Might be.

In this life I escaped that city, and this city told me who I am.

In this life I have found THE TRUTH.

In this town, I have found the truth …

Again …. Again, again.

Yet another

truthful life.

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Crunchy chrysalids

The chyrsalids came to mind,

along with the cold


barking snow.

So cold it whined and squeaked

under my black booted feets.

My testicles receded deep inside,

as my tulips rested

deep below.

My gardens

… in seven weeks,

heads will reach and rise,

break the surface

of the earth

with much surprise .




Did I winter

The calalilies ????

Fuck …. No :(.

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Then one day …

you look in the mirror

and state quietly …

“That old man looks alot like my Father.”

You mourn for a few seconds,

and then laugh ….


being your Father

is a good

and worthy


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All taking selfies

of our heads on pillows.

Carefully edited,

Sculpted in digital lights.

Perfect presentation,

like after being embalmed,

after the makeup artist has painted

our last portrait.

Decomposition is alive and well

In the reality of life with no filters.

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