So for the last two hours of my night I sat in his house. The house of a man who is nearing the end, and is only expected to live two maybe three days. I was there on business, putting together a montage of photographs from his life that will be shown at his ‘service’ (as his family put it, funny because it’s the least grim word I could think of at the time as well). So there I was, it didn’t take much more then thirty to forty minutes to get the pictures, music, and general layout for the project figured out and confirmed. I sat around for a while listening to his kin speak of him and then went into the other room where he was sitting. For the half hour before that I had avoided the invitations into that room, fearing that it would be a trap for me. Not sure why I felt that but I did. Maybe fearing that it would re-ignite some old frailties and show me my own immortality.

As I came around the corner I saw him, all his hair had but fallen out and he was laying there in a mess of sheets with a blue piece of paper in his hands. There were people all sitting around him, and two also with paper in their hands, taking instructions from him as to how the folds work on this piece of origami. So I once again sat, on the couch seat closest to the door I entered in, wishing that I could only be but a ghost (kind of ironic considering the stage of life he was in). I sat there and observed the people around me and I felt as if I faded into the wall. Here was a man, in his frailty, using the little strength he has left to make the folds of this paper for a friend who I came with. Spending over and hour and a half on these fold lines and creases for something that he is going to give away. When he only has a few days left he selflessly gave time.

I know that I would say that I’m not scared of death, and I still would agree with that. I am not scared of when I am no longer breathing and of this world, Gods grace will carry me on. However I am growing more frightened of my last moments. How weird is it that while he was laying in the other room in his hospital bed, we were in the kitchen going over photographs and music as if he weren’t even around.

Another thought I had revolved around something I still have problems with (althought I would downplay it if you confronted me with it). That’s running from issues that, could potentially, cause me pain or suffering. It is something I do in conversations and my interpersonal relations with my family and friends. But looking at him tonight made me realize that if he put something off, even if for a brief span of time, it could go without ever being said. There are so many things in life that need to be said, some over and over again. To not give yourself the opportunity to tell people the little things in life would be a tragedy. In the short span of time tonight since I left his house I’ve already thought of several things I want to say and will in the next day.

Now that I’ve rambled on for a while, and I do know it is all over the map, I will end it. No big philosophical ideals here, just some stuff to think about. Will probably post again tomorrow, so until then.

Take Care and God Bless,