I look across the River of Life and I see many dark clouds hovering over my friends’ lives. Clouds of despair. Clouds of sorrow.
Over Enzo’s home in Colorado the clouds roll in then roll out only to be followed by darker clouds. This year his wondrous gift of a Mom has lost her daughter, then she broke her leg, and recently lost her mother. How much pain can one family endure?
Humans watch those big glass screens in their houses, or travel to theaters while we are left alone, to watch stories of despair, perhaps to try to connect them to their own lives, or to see those who have suffered worse. We don’t watch fiction much here, even though Wells and Hitchcock continue to make movies, and Twain and Shakespeare continue to write, and Tupac really does have a new CD dropping Tuesday. With the threat of mortality no longer in question art loses it’s edge. We watch reality. Real reality not scripted reality. There is nothing scarier than real reality.
There are so many stories, some have been told in secret Facebook groups, others general knowledge, that I get them confused, and I don’t want to break confidences so I will have to keep of those in need private.
Like those parents who have through no fault of their own, and the great fault of others, lost their jobs. Humans become untethered when they lose their jobs. They may hate their jobs but jobs gives them self worth and purpose, not to mention money and health care. At least three of my friends parents are desperately looking for work in this unfair careless world. Please send them prayers.
And there are those walking with the spirits of the recently lost Some of those spirits surround me now, constantly looking over their parents as they struggle with going on without their beloved little friend. My friends reach out through dreams and spirit visits, never quite being able to touch those they loved.
There are others who have lost humans. Some humans lived years, long rewarding lives leaving a tapestry of memories and fingerprints on everyone they touched and some, well one, only lived hours, precious hours before crossing over. And we watch the pain, the sorrow and we wonder how do these parents go onward?
Then there are those sick. Three of whom have cancer. They are in different stages Some contemplating treats, come getting chemotherapy, one waiting a bone marrow transplant. All optimistic, all looking forward to tomorrow. All walking with great certainty into a constantly changing uncertain future.
This is why we love humans. Because in sickness and in health, good times and bad they, through unimaginable worry and sorrow, they keep moving forward. And they deserve something wonderful, something precious, something that will love them unconditionally to guide them through the ceaseless hard times.
And that is us.
I just wish I understood why we don’t get more time.