#225 - When The Words All Wash Away

Toward the end of March, I posted the words to a song I had written titled "When The Words." The song was inspired by a Facebook conversation with another musician/songwriter about inspiration and how it often comes at inconvenient times, such as when we are doing dishes or taking a shower.

This post has nothing to do with that song, but the title seemed appropriate. Words are supposed to help us make sense of things good and bad, help us explain things to others, help us to communicate. There are, however, other times when words seem inadequate, even though they are all we have.

This is one of those times.

Earlier today, I got word that my brother-in-law had died suddenly, of an apparent heart attack. When such events occur, I imagine most people go through some series of reactions and emotions. First and foremost is the feeling of sadness for the family, in this case my sister and her children and grandchildren.

Second, perhaps, is a feeling of shock. My brother-in-law was my age, perhaps a year or two younger. Third for many people, though they would not want to admit it and might even be likely to deny it, is a sense of relief that it isn't them. This feeling may be stronger the further removed one is.

Right now, I suppose I am rather numb. I liked my brother-in-law and know he was a good husband to my sister and a good father to his three children, but I can't say we were particularly close. I had only seen him (and my sister) a handful of times in the last ten or 15 years. I don't know that anyone is to blame for that. It's just how things worked out.

I know my sister is hurting right now. I know her children are hurting right now. I'm not quite sure what to say to them. The words have all washed away.

At times like this, words have a tendency to become cliches or platitudes, all uttered by well-meaning well-wishers who, like me, are not sure what to say. Perhaps platitudes and cliches are exactly the things to say. Having never been much good at platitudes and cliches myself, I am left at a loss for words.

Not being a religious man myself (though hopefully a spiritual one), I have no words to offer up on high. I hope that God is watching over the family, but I don't claim to know one way or another.

There is, though, one thing I do believe and have for some time. So long as you keep the memories of a loved one close to you, hold those memories in your heart, the person is never really gone or lost. Perhaps that is the true afterlife.

I think there was a line in a movie or television show to the effect that death is but another step in the journey each of us makes. That notion appeals to me. If that is, in fact, the case, I hope my brother-in-law and I can get together for a conversation and a drink and make up for the time we lost on this side.

Until then, Godspeed, Kenny.

#99 - Where There's a Will, There's a Way - Into Madness

". . . nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes." - Benjamin Franklin
"And when I die, and when I'm gone / There'll be one child born in this world to carry on, to carry on." - Laura Nyro (sung by Blood, Sweat and Tears)

For several years now we've talked about writing our wills and getting our estate in order so as to provide for our son when we're gone. For most of that time, talk is all it's been. Until recently, that is.

A little over a month ago, we finally met with a lawyer to get the ball rolling on getting a will in place along with powers of attorney, living wills, and so on. We completed the first phase of that process and have draft documents in hand. Now the real fun begins,

The draft documents we have have several areas where more specific information is needed. Burial or cremation? Open or closed casket? Where should your obituary be published? It's a slow death just getting the paperwork ready so that you are prepared when you actually do die.

And the need for specific information goes on. Who should be your trustee should your original choice resign, die, or otherwise not be able to carry out the duties assigned? What music do you want played at any service? (For the record, I want Elvis Costello's "The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes" to begin things, and I want to close with Barber's "Adagio for Strings".) Who do you want as your pallbearers? I don't know; who wants to carry an urn.

If there are specific bequests I want to make aside from the disposal of my estate (at least I sound well-to-do), I need to list them. If there are specific things I want to buried with, I must list those as well.

You get the idea. It's an important task, but it seems like minutiae on top of minutiae. No wonder we put it off for so long. I no longer feel guilty about that, if I ever did. It's important, but it's painful in much the same way having bamboo shoots placed under your fingernails is painful. Perhaps wills and such documents are the revenge of lawyers for having to go to school for so long.

But I suppose we can't turn back now. After all, we have a special needs child to plan for, which I guess makes it all worthwhile. So, this weekend, I guess I'll be doing a little heavy lifting and some less than light reading. As they say, no pain, no gain.

Mixed Feelings and Thoughts on Eternal Life

Is it possible to feel both good and bad at the same time? If so, how does one balance the two emotions to keep from slipping into utter chaos? That is the challenge I wrestle with at the moment.

The good feeling stems from the fact that my wife was promoted last week, on her birthday no less. I am happy for her and proud of her. She certainly deserves it. We celebrated the events (promotion and birthday) by going to dinner with our son to a nice Italian restaurant. No one can say we aren't doing our part to stimulate the economy.

The bad feeling comes from the fact that my best friend lost her job last week. It was a job she took because her existing job had been moved to my location and to me.

When she called to tell me what had happened, she went out of her way to make sure I wasn't feeling guilty about the turn of events. As she rightly stated, her old job was going away whether I was the one who took it or not. I have, though, managed to feel guilty about that fact since she and I first met.

At the time of her call, however, I was not feeling guilty. I have since started to feel that way a little. Somewhere inside me is the notion that this latest job would have worked out if she had not had to divide her time between it and training me. In my head, I know there were other reasons for keeping the old job while beginning the new one, but my heart can't quite escape the guilty feeling.

Worse still, her day had started with her having to have her 13-year old dog put to sleep. For those like her who are able to form special bonds with their pets, having to put a pet down is like killing one of your children. It hurts like hell.

When I was a boy, my cat got into a fight with two dogs and lost. I sat with him for an hour or so until he died. Then I cried for him and for me and what had been lost. Last week, I cried for my friend and for her loss because I knew a little of what that loss felt like.

One thing I asked my friend to hold on to was the memories of the times she and her dog spent together. I told her and I believe that as long as we hold the memories in our hearts, that loved one, whether human or pet, is never really gone, never really dies. I am beginning to think that is part of what eternal life is, what it means to live forever.