remember that it is all temporary

The stuff of life itself is transitory. I am reminded of this every day. Today I had lunch with my friend whose son committed suicide. We were in school together. She’s given up pottery. She gave me her tools! She’s done this before and I gave them back but today she told me she’s done. It broke my heart. Her life now is grief.

On Tuesday I take my SO back to the doctor. I don’t expect good news.

A few weeks ago a man I knew slightly helped me in a LARGE way with a project at work. I saw him again last week. He was 72, a big Santa of a man, funny and with a great heart for people. He was killed yesterday in his own front yard just doing some gardening! Struck by a car. Unbelievably sad. No one expects to go out to do a bit of gardening and get run down in one’s own yard. Just another example of temporary.

Is ill. It’s his heart, it’s beating too fast He’s 73. I hardly know what to think.

Simply by remembering that the event, the pain it might cause, the discomfort, whatever, is temporary. But some pain lasts and lasts. Of course, I know that I, too, am temporary and therefore the pain will end with me. More precisely, my pain will end with me. Yet doesn’t that very fact actually create a kind of permanence? For as I am temporary, I will eventually leave those who love me, causing them deep pain and in their turn, they will leave others and so on. Sometimes it seems only the pain persists. So, is pain temporary? I guess I could ask is love temporary as well, but that is another post.

Was to have run in a relay race in Las Vegas this past weekend. She couldn’t because she suffered stress fractures in one leg from over-training. During the race one participant died, hit by a drunk driver. It really shook her. Young, fit … and dead. One never knows what’s around the corner. Live.

I put it here because with every passing year I am more aware that life itself is temporary and that realization colors everything I do, mostly in a good way.

Tonight my SO was in concert with his small brass group as part of the city’s annual arts festival. At dinner I was talking about this and the granbeanie sighed deeply and said, “I’d love that!” The concert started at her bedtime but I said I would take her if her parents allowed it. They did and I did.

She had been primed by her folks to behave as she is only 3 and a night concert isn’t exactly for kids her age. But she loves music, horns in particular, and seemed very anxious to be good. She was. She was a perfect concert-goer. She did everything I did. She didn’t squirm, complain, or talk. She was attentive and when she got tired she curled up on my lap. One movement of a piece was big – the notes swelled and I could feel her chest expand as though she were breathing in the music. I took her home at intermission and she got to meet the musicians, blew a kiss to her “Granpa R” as she calls my SO, and examined the French horn, which fascinated her. She was so tired but also thrilled, both at the music and the control she was able to show over herself. I was very proud of her and realized that tonight was very special, probably never to be repeated as this was a kind of initiation to concert music.

Wow, do I love that kid.

I remember when I was a child and first became aware of change. My Dad had died and we moved. Of course I knew I would never see Dad again but I didn’t process that as change, my grief was too deep for that. But when we moved and I realized I would never climb those stairs, slide down that banister, go to that school, play with those friends, sleep in that room, it was overwhelming. Since then, of course I’ve had many changes. Some have been gradual, like having and raising a child, but some are sudden, like the fire at my daughter’s house last week. And change seems to engender more change.

I try to roll with it, enjoy what I can and get through what I don’t enjoy. Because I know that whatever is happening – good or bad – it will change. It may be the only thing I know for sure.

Her house is on fire! Everyone is ok. I’m going over there now to get the granbeanie. Damn!

So many of us here have lost pets I wanted to acknowledge mine, who I have the privilege of having for some temporary period of time. Here they are sharing my air mattress.

Last night I finally got around to going to a ball game. It was a good night for it: warm, but with a breeze, clear, we had good seats and the home team played well. I found out after two innings that I can no longer applaud. My hands went completely numb. A simple thing – slipped away from me.

At the end of the game there were fireworks. As I watched the colors light the night sky my SO rested his hand on my knee and I leaned back into him. It only lasted a few minutes.