...Okay. Here goes. For the past three mornings I've come here to try to articulate things that are going on inside, but I just couldn't get them from down here (pointing at chest), to up here (pointing to space between ears).
Sadness is a part of life. It just is. Just like learning to hate brussel sprouts as a kid, is. Happiness is also a part of life. I 'm sure of it. In the same way as having to listen to your mom say, "They're good for you! Now eat them!", is.
My previous post (since deleted) essentially said--I'm sad. It was a simple statement of fact. I could have just as easily said that I hate brussel sprouts, but then all three of you would have finally been convinced of that suspicion you've had all along--this guy has totally lost it! But really I haven't. Let me explain it.
The first part of my sad state has to do with my daughter heading back to school. It seems like just a few weeks ago that she came home for the summer. I had so looked forward to summer so we could reconnect and spend some time together--just to be. Well, she got a good job that kept her quite busy and, of course, she has a pile of friends that filled in the waking hours between. Suffice it to say we didn't spend much time together at all, and the times we did get were either hurried or one of us seemed preoccupied, and now she's all the way across the state at school.
Secondly, yet more prominently, there was Sam. Sam is a friend of mine that is dying of cancer. He has been a friend of mine for the past four years. Another mutual friend of ours, Mark, had a great idea. An idea spurred by a comment from his mom at a funeral last year. She slid up next to Mark and whispered, "Isn't it funny how many people will take a day off to go to someone's funeral but how few of the same people would take a half hour to visit when the man was still alive?" It struck a chord with Mark. He decided not to let our friend Sam go without knowing who he impacted and how. He threw a party for Sam and even put an ad in the local paper telling any and all who cared that Sam was not doing well and could stand a little encouragement. Well, the party was a huge success. There were cakes that said, 'We Love You Sam", there were balloons, there were cards to sign and all tolled there were probably around 200 people there. Each one armed with a hug or a handshake or a kiss. While Sam's body is becoming frail and his outward strength diminished, his spirit is bouyed and his eyes shone like the sun.
So, in essence, I was sad that I was sad. There is SO much to be glad about. I have a beautiful-beyond-belief daughter, and I have friends that let me be significant to them and they actually kind of like me.
Now I'm happy.