11:13 AM - Thursday, Jul. 08, 2004
Once in a Lifetime
Let me yawn and stretch here. Okay. I'm all done with that.
You know... this diary blog thingy is very addicting. I always want to log into this and write something. It doesn't matter what.. just as long as I'm writing. I think it helps me stay balanced, being able to release all my thoughts onto the screen. I think it gives me mental stimulation to let go of everything going on up in my head.
So what do I have to talk about today? Let's see.... I have many things on my mind, and I wish I could break them down into separate pages, but I'm not going to do that. I'll just lump all my thoughts onto this page, here.
Note: I would be working, but the phones have been ringing OFF the hook and I can't get into my work and concentrate.. so I'm just waiting for a time when the phones aren't ringing every three seconds. That's my excuse anyhow. Ha ha!
First off... we'll start with life. I read somewhere that life by definition is never still. I looked it up online at www.dictionary.com although it's apparent (common sense, in other words) that life would and could and should be defined as such. The online dictionary has a total of 13 definitions for Life. My personal favorites were these: The time for which something exists or functions and The interval of time between birth and death.
The reason I'm writing about life at the moment is because of a phone call I received this morning. Well, it was actually a call meant for my dad but I had to take a message for him. A friend of his, (I'm presuming a good friend since more than one person called to make sure my father received the news), Doug L., has a 13 year old son named Kevin. When Kevin was born, he was one of 10 out of every 1300 individuals born with something... well, I don't know what it was he was born with but it basically caused his blood vessels to burst. Kevin went into a coma yesterday and never recovered. He underwent surgery this morning, and the hospital ran tests on the activity of his brain. They had him on life support all night. About ten minutes ago I received another phone call announcing the fact that Kevin was pronounced brain dead and that they would be donating his organs within the next hour.
I don't know Doug and his family. I don't know 13 year old Kevin. I do know that 13 is too young to die, that to lose someone so precious is one of the most painful experiences anyone can go through, and that I have this overwhelming desire inside to cry at all the loss people experience in this world.
I know that life is not over after we experience an earthly death. I know that to ensure immortality in this world is to give birth to many children so that the bloodline continues. I know that people die before they even get a chance to be born, that some pass on after experiencing only minutes to mere hours of an existence, that some are given the opportunity to live an actual life which extends beyond their formative years, and that many are blessed with years upon years of life experiences and individual growth.
What I know most of all, however, is that life is not fair. Our time on earth is limited, and hardly ever do two individuals receive an equal amount of lifetime. So many individuals take for granted the experiences we live through. We're all guilty of it no matter how much we try not to be. Of course, a child rarely remembers the moment of speaking his first word, taking her first steps, or learning the skills needed in order to survive independently for the first time. But what about the children who don't live long enough to do these things? And what about the children who do, but they pass away before they can experience their first baseball game, the joy of opening up a present and finding their favorite gift inside, or the sheer exhileration or adamant disgust of a first kiss?
Life was not meant to be fair. Children are born with mental and physical disabilities, or an illness that attacks the body and makes them grow up much faster than they should have too. Other children are born into third world countries where they suffer within the borders of a poverty stricken society. Some of the children are merely born to die, while others possibly make it past a youthful age only to end up giving birth to their own children who will suffer just the same. And then you have the children who are born into abusive environments who grow up and seldom break the cycle of such a past, while even more are born into loving families who help them lead a wonderful life.
Why is life wonderful for some, while terrible for others? Why is one soul chosen to die, another soul chosen to suffer, while another soul is chosen to be contently happy? In other words, what makes my soul lucky enough to have been born into this particular existence to these particular parents over another soul?
Granted, I've suffered. My suffering may not be as bad as some and it may be worse than others... but overall, I've been blessed. So what did I do to deserve 26 years of life with no serious illness and no disabilities or handicaps outside the confines of poverty? It's these questions I sometimes wonder about when I hear of someone passing away. I think about the ones who are left behind by those who have passed on, the ones that have to endure the suffering of losing someone. I know what it feels like to go through the grief process. I know what it feels like to lose someone you love intimately, love unconditionally (like a grandpa, an aunt, a sibling, or friend that's as close as family), and know only on an acquintance level.
All my life I have witnessed death in some form or another, almost to the point where death was as familiar to me as life. When you are surrounded by death on a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly consistence, you learn to go through the steps of getting beyond the grief, or you learn to bury it deep inside of you in an effort to avoid the emotional pain. But, the sad thing is, it sometimes forces you to look at life from a sad perspective even when you have the inner strength to live through the emotions. (It must be cultural because not everyone views life and death this way... I just know that most of the people in my culture do.) Instead of celebrating life, we distinguish it with sorrow filled rituals. I remember someone telling me once that the rituals (funerals in my case) aren't done for those who have died, but for those who remain left behind.
On my way into work this morning, I heard a song about life. Much like many of the other songs I've heard about life, this song emphasized what everyone with good common sense and rhetorical thoughts and ideas question. What's this life for? And while I'm here, I better do what I can with my life because the moments fly by faster than I'm willing to admit. I only have one chance at this lifetime, so I better make the most of it.
And while so many of us do question the purpose of our existence and the good or bad events that take place during it, I wonder if there will ever come a time when we accept each individual life for what it is. I wonder if we will ever look beyond the hurdles and struggles we are meant to face and overcome... and see them not as an unfair advantage or just a lesson taught but something more. What that something more is, I can neither begin to know nor understand at the moment. I just know that every life is beautiful in it's own way, and that I wish we could all embrace each other's lives and see them in a special light.. instead of taking them for granted.
Well, I'm going to end that here. I'm in deep thought, but there's too much going on around me at the moment, and way too much going on in my mind. I feel grief for the family's loss. I feel overwhelmed with a desire to reflect my own losses (which I don't really want to do) and the losses of those closest to me, and I want to seriously meditate alone about all that surrounds me in a positive way.
The End.
