I lost a cousin on Friday. A good man. He was killed in a crash, and the trucker who hit him was charged with manslaughter on the spot. That’s how egregious the act was. It was just random, brutal recklessness. One innocent person being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and a complete stranger focused on something other than his job. That’s all it took. A few seconds delay either way, a linger in a doorway, or a undone shoelace, and it doesn’t happen.
But now a family must come together and grieve, and endure the unendurable. I’ve got no words for something like this. I thought they might come if I waited a few days. But no. So I’ve got to take another track.
*****
There’s not much pity in this world. There used to be more. But it’s been sucked out of the atmosphere somehow. Everybody has to get wherever first. Everybody is urged to go faster. What is it that we might miss? Or as the playwright Eugene O’Neil put it at the end of a long regret, “what is it, I wonder, that I so wanted to buy?”
Too much of our time is spent in a relentless slog, trying to keep our heads above the waterline, or our tongues from lashing out in perennial frustration. There’s a sense of accomplishment just closing out each day. No more climbing mountains to punch echoes. It can be exhausting. When we get to finally slump into a chair and turn everything that has been on, off…..well……that’s a win. We don’t ask for too much. If anything, we accept too little.
*****
And sometimes the fog moves in. The late great British singer-songwriter Nick Drake was once described by his sister as having “skin too few”, and if you’ve ever struggled with your own demons that description makes perfect sense. Some people can lay in the sun and it just bronzes them and makes them better looking. The rest of us hide under blankets and umbrellas because it burns.
Everybody fights a fight that nobody else can see. Behind every smile….every gregarious greeting….every joke….every toast……are backroom tears. Kindness is the only salve. I could do better. We all could do better. I’m too often left with regrets. I should have reached out. I should have said yes instead of no…..I should have gone instead of stayed home. How many people that you actually love have you ever said the words “I love you” to? Isn’t that peculiar?
And then they are gone, and a little piece of you gets taken away with them. That’s how these things work. Loss chips away at us. It’s relentless. Like tectonic plates pushing together.
*****
Blood matters. We’re always tethered. We even sorta look the same. We all grow grey around the same time. We can pick up where we left off. When there’s only one call to make, it’s them we dial. It’s never perfect. We don’t get to choose. Sometimes the only thing we have in common is our ability to drive the other mad. Face to face, we might take swings at one another. But when attacked by outsiders, we form Napoleonic squares. At the end, it’s blood who lay us down to rest.
*****
These are just little snapshots of what I’ve been pondering since I got the news. It’s fragmented, but that’s not by design. That’s just how it’s been. You can go hours without thinking on it. You’re focused on work or play or a Phillies game on TV. And then something snaps you back, and you’re reminded yet again. He’s gone and he should still be here. All because of some cosmic blunder.
At times like these I wish I had faith to fall back on, but I don’t. I require proof to believe, and I’ve never seen any. I don’t try to do good to get a trophy at the end. I try to do good because I find it much more agreeable than being bad.
But still. It would be nice to be reunited. I understand believing. I almost envy it.
I wish my extended family peace and serenity. I miss them all.
So hug who you need to hug. Call who you need to call. Help if you can. And at the very least, try to do no harm. Try to make a difference in a world that is filled with way too many people who don’t.
My cousin Ted made a difference.
In a bit…
—tf
So sorry for your loss.