Cleo’s Heart Photo by L. Weikel
Cleo Sharplin
One amazing result of writing my 1111 Devotion was the email I received yesterday from a friend of Cleo and Barry Sharplin. You may recall that I wrote about the Sharplins a few days before Christmas, encouraging a visit to Alchemy, their wonderfully unique clothing shop in Frenchtown, NJ.
Sadly, I must report that Cleo’s suffering ended this past Tuesday, January 15, 2019.
A Most Surprising Messenger
Last evening I received an email from the mother of an art student of Barry’s. She had apparently stumbled upon my blog and read my post from Day 39. In an act of uncommon kindness, she reached out to let me know of Cleo’s passing. Marlene’s words were so loving as she described moments she’d sat chatting with Cleo, listening to stories of Cleo’s adventures.
I am in awe that this blog put us in touch with each other. What a totally unexpected gift I received for the simple act of remaining disciplined to my commitment in honor of my Karl Daniel.
I paid a visit to Alchemy today to spend a few minutes with Barry and to let him know how sorry I am for the loss of his Cleo, his best friend. I know my words, however well-intentioned, were of hollow comfort. No words can set his upended world right.
A Heart to Hold
Before I went into the shop, I sat outside in my car, gray clouds gathering overhead and snow just starting to spit from those clouds ever so slightly. I’d wanted to bring something to Barry, some token to honor my memory of Cleo and acknowledge the rending of his life as he’d known it. Having an intimacy with stones by virtue of what I ‘do’ in my life, my best idea was, of course, the comfort of a gift from Mother Earth.
I’d found a heart of rhodonite that reminded me of Cleo, and as I sat outside Alchemy, I blew my intentions of love, comfort, and peace for Barry into that stone. On some level, I wanted to give him something tangible to hold onto as he winds his way on a new path that he did not expect to be traveling so suddenly.
As I was sitting there, whispering my final intentions into the stone, I watched him come out of the store. Taking a seat wearily on the wooden bench just outside the shop’s entrance, he lit up a cigarette and took a deep, long drag. As he sat there, I watched as he took in the empty front windows and the sign announcing “60% off.” I could only imagine his thoughts. How his entire life had upended in sixty days. Their store, so vibrant and lively for these many years, suddenly sapped of its lifeblood, a virtual shell.
It’s stunning how everything can change in an instant.
The Connections We Make
In that moment, I got out of my car, walked over, and sat next to him on the bench. Looking up, he recognized me, at least on some level, and moved over just a scootch. All I had to do was look in his eyes. I asked if I could give him a hug. (That seems to have been the only consistent offering I could make these past weeks, as I witnessed this unfold from afar.)
I explained how I’d received the email from his student’s mom, and how grateful I was that she’d reached out to let me know. I’d felt really sad earlier in the week, and had blamed it on circumstances in my own life. I didn’t tell him that, of course; but I did reveal how in those moments of self-pity, a clear and unmistakable sense of Barry’s loss (impending, I’d assumed) had intervened. Yes, Cleo and Barry had been front and center in my mind and weighing on my heart.
Barry, listening and staring straight ahead at the shell Alchemy has become, took a long drag on his cigarette. Turning his ruddy face toward me, he smiled and looked me directly in the eyes. “You know,” he said, “she left at 9:11.”
Wow. No. I did not know that.
I don’t know if that felt significant to him because of the connection to ‘the’ infamous 9/11, or if on some level, he knew about my connection to 11s, but there it was. That doorway created by the double ones. A portal. And now another shared connection to a loved one taking their leave from this world into the next.
___________________________________
Alchemy Clothing – 17 Bridge Street – Frenchtown, NJ – 08825
Barry will be keeping Alchemy open until next Sunday, January 27th. Sadly (but good for you), I was surprised by the number of great pieces still available as of today.
So if you want to help both yourself and the Sharplins out – pay a visit. The discount is steep. And best of all, you get one last chance to have some Cleo eclecticism in your closet. Even if you didn’t know her, trust me. She had an eye for beauty, color, and style that will be sorely missed.
(T-1042)