In An Instant
The events of Monday led me to the conclusion that I should definitely draw some conclusions.
Every day in this great land people live their last day. That is certainly a scary proposition. I never truly feared death until I was looking down its muzzle.
Now I think of it all the time and it sort of drives me nuts. I wish I could wrap everyone up in bubble wrap and keep them happy and secure.
No accidents. No illness. No sadness or disease.
Not possible, right? In an instant everything you hold dear can be ripped away. And there's the voice in my head, the one that was honed by my family and friends and the nuns that beat me all the way through grammar school.
"Trust in God."
"Stay positive."
That little voice brings instant aggravation.
Yet when I wrote Oh Brother! it was Jeff's spirit that I was trying to get to. The 'have-a-good-time-even-if-you're-walking-into-an-empty-room-all-by-yourself' feeling.
It's ironic to think that his passing took that feeling away, and replaced it with the fear of having to consider everyone in my life and hope they are just fine.
Shit is going to happen. There isn't any getting around that. Broken bones and broken spirits will heal.
Eventually.
As I thought about it all coming to close, in an instant, I sort of smiled about it.
Aggravations, to be sure, but even if the curtain is yanked shut in one wrong turn, its all been done according to my plan.
And there are no regrets.
As I think of those who've recently passed in my life, I can say one thing for certain...they all felt the same way.
Can't ask for more than that, I suppose.
Every day in this great land people live their last day. That is certainly a scary proposition. I never truly feared death until I was looking down its muzzle.
Now I think of it all the time and it sort of drives me nuts. I wish I could wrap everyone up in bubble wrap and keep them happy and secure.
No accidents. No illness. No sadness or disease.
Not possible, right? In an instant everything you hold dear can be ripped away. And there's the voice in my head, the one that was honed by my family and friends and the nuns that beat me all the way through grammar school.
"Trust in God."
"Stay positive."
That little voice brings instant aggravation.
Yet when I wrote Oh Brother! it was Jeff's spirit that I was trying to get to. The 'have-a-good-time-even-if-you're-walking-into-an-empty-room-all-by-yourself' feeling.
It's ironic to think that his passing took that feeling away, and replaced it with the fear of having to consider everyone in my life and hope they are just fine.
Shit is going to happen. There isn't any getting around that. Broken bones and broken spirits will heal.
Eventually.
As I thought about it all coming to close, in an instant, I sort of smiled about it.
Aggravations, to be sure, but even if the curtain is yanked shut in one wrong turn, its all been done according to my plan.
And there are no regrets.
As I think of those who've recently passed in my life, I can say one thing for certain...they all felt the same way.
Can't ask for more than that, I suppose.
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