Peter Kirwin aboard the R.S. Edwards
Those close to Penikese and its surrounding community know by know that beloved friend Peter Kirwin passed away on Friday, April 23 from pancreatic cancer. Our deepest sympathies and abiding love go to his family and loved ones, especially his son and daughter.
This forum is simply too small a space to adequately tribute such a remarkably giving man who, over his lengthy career in social work and human services, became the standard bearer for compassionate community.
Penikese was only one of many missions to which Peter gave himself, mainly involved through his interest in leading group therapies. When Penikese was going through a period of revision and rebuilding in the mid- and late-1990s, he co-lead groups with Pam Brighton, and after his recent retirement from Falmouth Human Services, returned to lead groups with dear friend and colleague, Irwin Freedman.
We will be eternally grateful to Peter for all his contributions to Penikese, not the least of which was, during his first stint in the 1990s, his exhortations to keep at it, believing that Penikese was vitally important and desperately needed in so many ways. After completing his (then) last group, he handed us a poem and wished us well on our journey.
We wish Peter well on his final journey, and in closing share with you Ithaka by C.P. Cavafy:
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon — don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon — you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time:
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind —
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
