"Men are born; they suffer; they die".
Anatole France
In these seven words, according to a tale told by Anatole France, a wise man once summed up the history of mankind.
We all have our long ago and far aways; those times in our past that now seem like some distant planet that we once visited; vague, misty, surreal almost. Times that when we see pictures of ourselves we wonder, "was that really me?"
My dad emailed me this week to tell me that an old boyfriend of mine from 25 yrs. ago had overdosed on Oxycontin and died. This sent me down to the basement to look thru old photo albums of my own long ago and far away. As if sucked into a vortex, I found myself reliving a past that I had long since forgotten, or so I thought. Memories came to life as I flipped the pages, and I could recall parties, the sound of people's voices that I hadn't seen or even had a thought of in 25 yrs., and then suddenly, there he was........Jim. It was New Year's Eve and I was at my brother's party, in the kitchen. Someone snapped a photo of us, his arms wrapped around me, the look of love and happiness in both of our eyes. It was only a moment, and then it was gone, but here it now was in my hands, captured for all eternity. I lost it. There on the basement floor, I sat and bawled my eyes out, remembering how much I had loved him. I was 17 and he was 22 and I was hooked; hopelessly hooked on this big ole lumbering, grinning, good old boy. He drank most all the time we were together, and drinking tended to give him a mean streak, so alot of the time he was a real jerk. But when he wasn't drinking he was the best and this was why I stayed way longer than I should have. Finally self preservation kicked in, and, tired of being his doormat, I told him off one day on the phone and that was the last we ever spoke - unkind words and then I hung up on him without even saying goodbye. Now here I was, blubbering like an idiot on my basement floor, crying over an old boyfriend who hadn't even treated me particularly well from 25 yrs. ago, and I didn't know why.
Until now. I was crying because I had forgiven him. I was crying because I was sad that he died alone and no one found him for a couple of days. I was crying because he never straightened his life out and never cared enough about himself to quit doing drugs. I was crying because he probably had never known real love in his life, nor thought he deserved it. I was crying because I had loved him with all my heart and in my flawed thinking I thought that maybe I could have "saved" him if I had only stayed with him, but instead I failed him by giving up in favor of myself. But most of all, I was crying because he will never have a long ago and far away any longer. Never grow old, never see his son's children, never get up and go to work anymore, never eat, sleep, breathe, laugh, talk, watch TV or the sun go down; never anything anymore. He will now BECOME part of the long ago and far away of history for all of us who knew him.
I know that life is impermanent. Nothing lasts and nothing is supposed to; that's just the way it is. We all have our time on this Earth and we all have our time to go. What bothers me though is when someone plays Russian Roulette with when it is their time and loses. So I say: Let the Universe decide. Live your life as strongly and as well as you can. Take care of yourself. Eat right, exercise, take vitamins, breathe fresh air and love yourself and everyone around you. Laugh. Read. Take naps. Have sex. Travel. Hike in nature and let your breath be taken away naturally, not B4 your time.
And for Jim: I promise I will never forget. You will always be a part of my long ago and far away. And though I don't know where we go when we die, I do believe that heaven for each of us is whatever we envision it 2B. I hope you're happy now.
