I wish I could have one more day with you. One more day where I could watch the hummingbirds with you, sort through your hot wheels collection together, go to the dollar store, hug you, and this one last time, I wouldn’t say no to a game of Skip Bo.
I wish I had told you I loved you more often. I wish you never thanked me for coming over and spending time with you, because I was never too busy for you. I wish I had never left early because of my social schedule, because the truth is, life catches you in the moment, and you don’t take advantage and appreciate what you have until it’s gone. I would give up a lifetime of social commitments for one more evening with you.
I am thankful for all the times I told you I loved you. I am so thankful for all the times I hugged you for an extra 3 seconds, despite your reservations. I am thankful for that late afternoon, the very summer before you passed, where we sat on the back deck in the fading sun, and enjoyed each others company.
Sometimes, I still think you’re going to come around the corner into the kitchen, with a bottle of wine in hand. I miss you every day.
You lived for your grand kids, and we lived for you, grandpa.
Heyyyyy, it’s good! So nice to hear from you! How are you doing? How is the beautiful Taylor?
The universe has a way of evening things out; the moment you gain love, you lose another. I lost my grandpa today. Where do I start? What do I say? I could not have asked for a better grandfather. I will feel forever blessed that I got to share him with my cousins. He went the way he wanted; his heart just stopped. That’s that. He lived for his children and his grandchildren. He lived for us and we were his world. Who could ask for more love than that?
I’ve always considered myself the type who gets their heart broken, not the one who goes around doing the breaking.
He said all relationships take this much work but I disagree. I wish I didn’t have to leave it the way we did but I hope he’ll understand that this is not easy for me either.
I don’t wish heart break on my worst enemy let alone a loved one. I’ll file this one away under growing pains.
This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t. You get to decide what to worship.
Because here’s something else that’s weird but true: in the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.
Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings.
They’re the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that’s what you’re doing.
And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the centre of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving…. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.
That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.
Don’t you just hate it when people surprise you? Usually it restores my faith in humanity, but this time it just made this seemingly endless road a lot longer.