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If You Are Dying, Don’t Call Me
… I may not do enough to save you
“Do to others what you’d want them to do to you.”
~ The Golden Rule
I am not the type that values my life over anything else. I see the universe as a moving tide where action and causality are the undercurrents. I see interconnectedness in the roles we play in this scripted endless theatrical piece — men, beasts, trees, rocks and oceans. We are all characters and props in an eternal production. To live on the show, is to come on stage on cue, and to die is to leave.
But I haven’t always been this way
“Knock, Knock”
My first contact with grief was the passing of a promising young man we all looked up to as the one poised to succeed the most among our motely crowd of young teenage school leavers. This young man had a phenomenal brain, protected by a spectacularly large head that we all joked about as his extra for being so smart. On the day he died, a mutual friend called me before the waking hours to tell me, and boy did I cry that day.
Who’s there?
In another event, I held a baby in my arms till his body grew cold. Nothing I did changed the course of that little child’s destiny. I breathed in him till my throat was…
