pex has summed up much of the tragedy in the human condition today. Regret is an emotion that I think is combated best by living in accordance with your true self, but that is not always the easiest thing to accomplish, and often for reasons that seem trivial in retrospect. I think our conscience is that pang we feel that moves us to live to the fullest when we are reminded that surely one day will prove that there really isn't time enough to catch up on all that reckoning. Interesting that we cling to and put so much power in the past and so much stock in the future when the only reality that exists is now.
We suffer greatly when we compromise our reality for deciding when we can be happy in the future, when we finally get that dream job, or finally get out of debt, or finally have a child, or finally get the child out of the house, or when .... putting it off for later isn't a sound bet because we don't know how much time we have to budget.
Death, untimely death in particular, can shock us out of that comfortable tucked away "someday" happiness notion, making us realize that if we are to be truly happy, ever, we must do it now.
I remember that at my Grandmother's funeral, I was much more overcome with emotion than for any of the other 3 Grandparents (I was lucky to have had all four of mine well into adulthood.) I actually had to step out of the room for a minute to try and compose myself. And it was not even that I would miss her so, and I didn't feel a sense of personal loss the way my mother did, but I remember sensing that a certain responsibility had been passed to me, a spiritual role in the family that no one else could fill, and that felt like quite a lot resting on my shoulders. In retrospect it was almost a panicky feeling, like "Wait! I'm not ready yet!!" Ready or not, though, it was as it was.
I am confident that the death of any one person is far less of a tragedy for that one person than for the people who are left behind to mourn them. Our grief is not for the deceased, but for ourselves no longer being able to interact with them in the manner to which we have become accustomed. But the body is a temporary haunt for any spirit, and if we are not deluded by the limitations of the vehicle, we can still sense that spirit even when the body is laid to rest. I am very drawn to the New Orleans style funeral celebration, and I should like my passing to be an affair of that sort rather than one of somber sadness.
I do get visited by those passed on occasion, most often by my dog, usually in dreams, but sometimes when awake too. My dog is the only one I ever miss strongly, and even then its usually when I am already feeling low because that was when he was best to have around. He would never exacerbate my mood by sulking with me, but he would insist on shoving his head under my hand or grab a toy, ready to turn any little rag or ball into a party. He was always a spiritual buoy; his presence amplified what was best in me and rarely was he ever a drain on my energy or attitude the way some people can be, even some dogs. When I think about him otherwise, I am so grateful for having known a companion like that, and feel honored that he chose to hang out with me.
Drink a toast to your friend then, Patrick, and thank him. Friends are wonderful for reminding us who we are.
