An Elegy for Neil Gibson

This post is based on a letter I wrote last week about Neil Gibson's passing.

Last week, longtime High Meadows maintenance staff member Neil Gibson succumbed to the cancer that had taken hold of him over the last few months.

To say that Neil was an important part of the High Meadows community would be an understatement. For 19 years, Neil was a beloved institution at High Meadows. He was much more than a dedicated employee. He was a loving, creative presence who shared his gifts of poetry, photography, art and philosophy with everyone who knew him. Neil had a significant hand in building revered structures around our campus, including the woodworking castle off the lower meadow and the maintenance shed next to the caboose. His beautiful photos of High Meadows, all pine-framed lovingly and hand-colored meticulously, grace the walls of our campus. Many treasured trees were planted by Neil, none more beautiful than the loquat in Memaw's Garden, which bore fruit that Neil would turn into lovely preserves that he would give away to all who appreciated a good jam. Speaking of jam, Neil loved music. He never missed the opportunity to join his colleagues and friends in a good session of guitars, banjos and soulful vocals.

It's a cliché, I know, but Neil really did love life. And life loved him back, gracing him with two beautiful children, Luna and Jake, and his longtime friend and partner, Kelly, all of whom had been faithfully at his side as he came to terms with his illness and began to say good-bye to this life. Neil was a man blessed with great love.

Three weeks ago, more than fifty of us who knew Neil (including several folks from High Meadows' past) threw him a gratitude celebration next to the loquat tree. Though Neil was unable to join us physically, the magic of technology enabled us to "Skype" him in so he was able to experience the many fond stories and remembrances his friends shared about him. It was an extraordinary way for us to say thank you to Neil, and he was deeply touched by the tributes.

There is so much more to say about Neil, but I would like to yield to his own words which he wrote several years ago in a collection of his poetry called Inwood Eyes.

Oh, to be at sea again

To feel the surge of the great ocean.

Carry me off to far away lands;

I will respect you always.

Let me be like the sea

To be fluid and strong.

Let the salt bathe my body;

Let me be free.

Oh, to be at sea again,

Dealing with the elements,

And knowing God.

I can hear you calling me.

Neil MacDonald Gibson II, 1952-2014