i'm not afraid
if you're like me, last night you were bawling your eyes out at the series finale of six feet under. now, admittedly, i'm a bit of a pansy and a crier, so you may not have actually been bawling, but my wife and i have watched this show from day one, some four years ago.
the finale made me think alot about death: mine, my loved ones', and in general. now, death is something that occupies a bit of my thoughts at any given moment. it's not that i am morbid, or i enjoy death, i guess it's just that death is part of life, and i don't think of it as an end. matter of fact, i think that i will see all my loved ones upon dying, regardless of what version of heaven they are hanging out in (it's fucking heaven, right? we can do whatever we want, including hanging out with our loved ones, regardless of whether they are in christian heaven, or valhalla.) that even goes for my atheist friends who think they are just gonna feed the worms. i figure i'll see them somehow or other as well.
when i was a teenager, i felt i had no real reason to hang on to this life. if someone had come up to me and told me i needed to be shot cause i had worn the wrong gang colors, or if i had seen a russian nuclear warhead heading in my direction, i would've smiled, and the only thing i might've said is, "quick and painless, please".
but now i have a family, i have a life i love. i look forward to things like first dates, tenth anniversaries, roadtrips to godforsaken places like new mexico. so i think, as i mentioned in my one-year anniversary post, i'm not afraid of dying, i'm afraid of the things i'll miss out on when i have left. and i take it further than just my own children, but my children's children, and their children, and those children. so many first dates, and weddings, and first steps, and so on and so on. and the sheer magnitude of the things that i will not witness first hand makes me sad. oh, i think i'll get to see it all. i think there are probably all kinds of incidents that i will witness as a spirit or whatever. but it won't be quite the same i think, and that is sad. and yes, i'm crying a bit now as i write this.
an infinity of familial incidences that i will be involved in from afar.
and if i could make a few requests for the moment when it happens, i would ask, first, that it be quick and painless. i would ask that i will not have left my wife and children wishing they had known me better, as my own father did. i want amazing grace played on the pipes at my wake or whatever (there's just something about amazing grace on the bagpipes that i cannot even explain.) i would hope that all harvestable organs are healthy so that the clay-ey part of me left behind when the real me takes off will help others to enjoy their time on this marble. i hope i'm not a burden to my loved ones. i want everyone to get completely shitfaced at the wake, and dance and kiss and fuck and cry and laugh and be alive. or i'll haunt your sorry asses. i would hope that my loved ones would remember the good times in vivid detail, and that the bad times would blur to a dull, out-of-focus photo. but most of all, i hope that i will have left an indelible imprint of happiness and goodness upon those who i love.
i'm not afraid of dying, just the things i will miss out on.
and, anyways, in the meantime, i've got years ahead of me to savor the day-to-day and the sensory impulses that comprise this life.
now, if you'll let me, i gotta go wash my face before no. 1 asks me "wha' happeen, daddy?" in that intensely sincere way that will only make me cry harder.
darth sardonic
the finale made me think alot about death: mine, my loved ones', and in general. now, death is something that occupies a bit of my thoughts at any given moment. it's not that i am morbid, or i enjoy death, i guess it's just that death is part of life, and i don't think of it as an end. matter of fact, i think that i will see all my loved ones upon dying, regardless of what version of heaven they are hanging out in (it's fucking heaven, right? we can do whatever we want, including hanging out with our loved ones, regardless of whether they are in christian heaven, or valhalla.) that even goes for my atheist friends who think they are just gonna feed the worms. i figure i'll see them somehow or other as well.
when i was a teenager, i felt i had no real reason to hang on to this life. if someone had come up to me and told me i needed to be shot cause i had worn the wrong gang colors, or if i had seen a russian nuclear warhead heading in my direction, i would've smiled, and the only thing i might've said is, "quick and painless, please".
but now i have a family, i have a life i love. i look forward to things like first dates, tenth anniversaries, roadtrips to godforsaken places like new mexico. so i think, as i mentioned in my one-year anniversary post, i'm not afraid of dying, i'm afraid of the things i'll miss out on when i have left. and i take it further than just my own children, but my children's children, and their children, and those children. so many first dates, and weddings, and first steps, and so on and so on. and the sheer magnitude of the things that i will not witness first hand makes me sad. oh, i think i'll get to see it all. i think there are probably all kinds of incidents that i will witness as a spirit or whatever. but it won't be quite the same i think, and that is sad. and yes, i'm crying a bit now as i write this.
an infinity of familial incidences that i will be involved in from afar.
and if i could make a few requests for the moment when it happens, i would ask, first, that it be quick and painless. i would ask that i will not have left my wife and children wishing they had known me better, as my own father did. i want amazing grace played on the pipes at my wake or whatever (there's just something about amazing grace on the bagpipes that i cannot even explain.) i would hope that all harvestable organs are healthy so that the clay-ey part of me left behind when the real me takes off will help others to enjoy their time on this marble. i hope i'm not a burden to my loved ones. i want everyone to get completely shitfaced at the wake, and dance and kiss and fuck and cry and laugh and be alive. or i'll haunt your sorry asses. i would hope that my loved ones would remember the good times in vivid detail, and that the bad times would blur to a dull, out-of-focus photo. but most of all, i hope that i will have left an indelible imprint of happiness and goodness upon those who i love.
i'm not afraid of dying, just the things i will miss out on.
and, anyways, in the meantime, i've got years ahead of me to savor the day-to-day and the sensory impulses that comprise this life.
now, if you'll let me, i gotta go wash my face before no. 1 asks me "wha' happeen, daddy?" in that intensely sincere way that will only make me cry harder.
darth sardonic
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home