My intent is not to be morbid with this post.
I am actually writing something serious, relish that.
I thought, what if. What if something happened? What if my life was cut short? What do I wish I could say to those whom I love, who love me, who hate me, who haven’t met me but perhaps might have?
Am I supposed to apologize? That the inevitable apparently inevit…ed? I don’t want to seem puffed up, but I’m sorry for the pain I know it would cause, and would hope that any pain is equally matched by the joy of a good memory. A smile here and there. Knowing that some people would be hurt pricks a bitter-sweet chord in my heart.
What words of -what I hope to be some sort of- wisdom would I want to leave in this existence? Let go of pride. Let go of pain, and hurt. Experience it. Experience anger, but let it pass from you. Please don’t let fear cripple you, let yourself learn from it. Your fear was given to you to help you be stronger. Let it do that.
Cherish each sunset, you’ll never see another which is the same as the one you might see tonight. Never refuse a hug. Never give less than a perfect hug. What is a perfect hug? Try to find out, and I promise you will.
Try to love others the way your dog loves you. It’s hard, I can’t get it straight.
Never. NEVER stop loving anyone, or anything. Love is something almost magical, it exists the moment you let it. It has the power to endure past everything, it can exist with hate, but can’t be unaffected by hate. Let love come into you. Love makes us so vulnerable, whether it’s the love of a new puppy which you will outlive and have to take to the vet for that treatment none of us want to think of, or maybe the fancy of a new man or woman which reminds us of the sting of previous broken hearted moments. Love can heal you, let it. Love must be nurtured, it’s such a beautiful thing. Let others love. I can’t say that I know who is reading this, but in my heart and in my mind, I love you. No, I don’t necessarily know your story, your pains, your triumphs, your defeats, your loves, and hopes. But I’m rooting for you. You aren’t alone in this existence. Will you let me share this life with you? I would that I could put my hand on your shoulder right now and tell you that while I can’t say that everything is going to be good, I can say that I won’t let you be alone through it. Whether by my physical presence, or right now, as I write this, as you read it, my hopes and my spirit are reaching for you. Can you feel it?
I know how much this life can hurt. I always wrestle with the thought of bringing more life into this world. How can I create life and give it this life? This life where there’s so much pain. grief. greed. selfishness. Any pain my dear son would feel, every tear my daughter would shed would be on me. I wouldn’t let it happen, I would tell myself. I can’t be responsible for all of the pain which they would undoubtedly experience.
But I get it now. I can have a child. I know now. Do you? This life, so rich with struggle, with tests, is ours. It’s all.ours. We can make it. This isn’t my life, this isn’t your life. It’s ours. (Right now a spider repelled down the right side of my screen about a half-inch from the right side. About 2/3rds of the way down, and then right back up. Teeny little fella. It was beautiful) So this life, let’s make it great, okay? I can’t do it by myself, and even if I’m gone, this whole life is still shared. How much have we learned from Shakespeare? What emotion have we felt almost as if we were feeling what he had felt? How can we say that we haven’t shared the gift of life with him? This thought makes me hope that I’ve shared enough with all I’ve encountered to be able to make this life ours. I try to be open, but am I naive? Am I still the closed, angry little young man who had to become his own father-figure? Are we still growing?