An old acquaintance from my born-again Christian days died last week of a drug overdose. Good old Mike Jones. He was a punky little skate boarder. I had forgotten about him and I am sure he forgot about me, as well. But this past weekend I ran across this picture I took of him the day he was baptized. He had a great smile.
Last week was hard. Again, I was reminded of how short our lives are and how death can come and take us away in any way it sees fit. This will always and forever be a hard lesson for me: the impermanence of life. The word “impermanence” eludes me. As I was typing that sentence I had a hard time thinking of that word. It’s as if I am trying to deny that this is a thing that exists. It is a lesson that is sometimes too painful to endure.
Which leads me to the other thing that I have had to deal with and thoughts about it. I am not going to go into detail about that other thing because it is not something that is personal to me. It is something that is happening to someone I care about. However, watching this person go through it has made me realize something about myself. I think it is harder for me to see people I love go through pain than it is for me to endure pain personally. Or maybe the two things are equally as painful. But I don’t know. Watching my loved ones go through things is really, really hard for me. For example, the thing that hurts me the most about watching Doug die is having to watch my mom’s heart break as she said goodbye to her soul mate. I can’t even write that sentence without sobbing, four years later. Watching her say goodbye to him is the most painful part of that memory for me.
I don’t know why I am thinking about this today. This is just an observation about myself. Thinking out loud I guess. I don’t really want to be tested in this theory again any time soon, though. I am ready for happier times.