Death in the Middle

Scotty (James Doohan) died Wednesday. Dozens died in London on 7/7 and thousands die every day.

A coworker's very close aunt passed last Friday. A good friend of mine's mom passed last night. Very sad. She had serious problems in December 2003 and no one thought she'd make it then, so her family and friends have had a year and a half of good and not-so-good times, but there are memories that were made.

I could write a poem, or a haiku, or editorialize on the worth of a life. I didn't know her mom, except from what my friend told me and everyone else. I kind of regret not meeting her at some point, but it wasn't my world, or my place. Not pretending to be magnanimous or anything, just observing a fact.

I'm always an outsider. Even with my own family, I've always felt that way. The whole ennui thing, y'know. There are my friends whom I've felt more at home with than anyone, and still, I feel that way. Maybe we all do.

My point?

We are not what we think we are. We are not the centers of our universe, even though it always feels that way - that things revolve around us. It's the connections that matter, the memories, the things we touch, the stuff we leave behind. Regardless of how we see ourselves, regardless of how we feel inside, it's the perceptions of others that determine how we are remembered. Whether through good or ill intentions, cross or alike purposes, our comrades, our families, our acquaintances, those individuals whose lives we touch in a single moment, these are the ways we affect the world, the ways we pass on our legacies.

I can be a cold sonofabitch, or the warmest person in the world, it all depends on who I interact with. I'm a hypocrite, a liar, a lover, a friend, honest, sometimes wise, many times a fool, and never as smart as I think I am. But all of these things, unless they are remembered, unless they are kept by others, don't matter a hill of beans in the end.

She loved her mom, is a strong person, a giving heart, and a great person to be around. The way she felt and talked about her mom and her dad, her mother will be remembered well for a long time.

Such an intangible thing, these impressions and memories. A memory can be as fleeting as the blue car passed yesterday evening, or as lasting as the last kiss from your first true love.

But in the end, that's all we are. Make them worth it, and live forever.

TTFN