The honest truth is that now I've begun to grow again, and look for new life experiences, it's pretty boring around here. I managed to stay alone and quiet through the nasty winter, and just as spring came, I totally screwed up my back... after doing laundry? WTF?
The only good thing I can see there is that it gave me a great opportunity to roast myself on the radio. I mean, really, laundry? My friend and co-worker Sean Roberts gets hurt because he flips a Jet Ski on vacation. Me, I 'm unable to walk for four days because I reached into the closet for a clothes hanger. What kind of tale is that to tell? I wanted to run out into St. Joe and take a glancing blow from passing traffic just so I would have an interesting excuse.
I fear I'm turning into one of those people who spout on and on about their aches and pains. So no more about my tired old bones. I refuse to allow myself to wallow in pity which I don't deserve. There are other, more important things on my heart.
Friends.
Changes.
Death.
And the time that is given to us.
That last phase, "the time that is given to us," has alwaws borne special significance for me. It was spoken as part of my wedding ceremony. Flash back to the wonderful Seventies, and my hippie wedding, complete with vows written for the occassion. I hate to say I now can't recall who first penned that phrase, possibly Roxanne's best friend Patty, or Tommy, the minister (ordained in the Universal Life Church by answering an ad in Rolling Stone and sending $3.00 to Modesto, California... I told you it was a hippie wedding) who performed the ceremony.
It's a beautiful and all-encompassing phrase. Truly, the time we share is a gift, one to be accepted with grace and reverence, and never to be taken for granted. As with all things, it will someday end.
The fragile nature of life, and my fragile friendships of the Seventies are weighing on my mind tonight. Yesterday I learned that someone I consider a friend and mentor is ill and may not have long to go. This is someone I looked up to when I was starting in radio. He became a brother in arms, and a confidant. His wife and mine became good friends, and my daughter was close to his kids. We fell out of touch - such is the nature of this business - but I always think of him with a smile, and with self-reproach that I let the miles between us stand in the way of maintaining our friendship.
So many people in radio let their ego take hold and strangle those around them. This man allowed other to share in his good times. I hope my prayers for his well-being are worthy of God's consideration.
UPDATE: This evening, I received word that he passed away today, just a few hours after I wrote this post. I hope he feels welcome into the next world, and that his presence brightens those around him, just as it did during his earthly life. I know that Roxanne will rejoice to find him again. May God have mercy on his soul.
Closer to home, I am sad for another friend, well and healthy thankfully, but bruised by the sad economic truth that in the end, we are all assets and liabilities on someone's ledger. I hate it when life squeezes the throats of good-hearted people. And I selfishly hate that there is now one less smile to greet me each day. I can offer only the consolation (learned from hard experience) that as the days roll by, the sadness eases and the good times become more dear. Still another friend has realized that life holds more important paths than come on the fast track career ladder. It takes a special kind of insight to step back and exhale when you're surrounded by people who dare not breathe lest they lose their competitive advantage.
I hope all our paths will cross again, because I hold them both dear, in the same way I cling to others who are no longer co-workers. Maybe the future will find us united again. One never knows what will happen in radio, Hell, counting format changes, I've worked on nine Evansville stations over the years. So I hold out hope for reunions down the road, and hope that together we'll work more miracles someday. I love The Hill, always have, but it's a lonelier place right now.
Many friends remain, though, and they are emeralds in my eyes. I recently came across a card I had forgotten about, one given to me after my wife's death. Nothing special, just one of those things people do when a co-worker needs support. I remembered receiving it, looking at it briefly, and being touched by their kindness. I could not fully emotionally digest it in my time of grief, but now, as I re-read it, it struck me how special each person's comments were. I cried as I thought how each of them took time to comfort me. I lost it when I came to the comments from Linda, who passed away a few months after Rox.
My bosses have been especially supportive of me for the past year and a half, personally and professionally, as I have pulled my warts out for display on this blog, somtimes telling more truth than is prudent. I should also mention Sean again, considering I poked fun at him earlier. He's been a rock, and I've come to lean on him more than I've let on.
Of course, Cathy and Lew, who have made life tolerable, always deserve a special mention. I'm still close as ever to my best friend, but job constraints have put a real damper on the time we can be together. It's somewhat ironic that through her absence, I've grown closer to her guy, whose working hours are more compatible with my own. I know he missed her while she was helping me with my health issues. I suppose only now do I realize the patience he showed. It's quite a testament to his character. They deserve all the love and happiness they give each other, and it lifts my heart to know that sometimes, the good guys really DO win.
My one other close non-radio friend seems to pop in and out of my life at random times. Sometimes I think about her, and play "what if," but that's a game for people on the other end of life. So it's back to my post-Roxanne default position... night drags on and I'm alone, with thoughts and memories which alternately comfort and haunt me. But due to the support and comfort which I've gradually learned to accept, I'm a better, stronger and wiser man.
These friends, and others, have all been at the heart of my resurrection. I owe them all, and I give thanks that in the midst of hurt, the world has people with pure hearts, people who love. Although I long for more, I've learned to take the moments they all offer and not be a glutton. Or to be more accurate, I try my damndest to accept the time that is given to us, often without success, but always with a pure heart.
A pure heart. My adult life has been so torrid, it's incomprehensibile that I can actually describe myself with that phrase. It may be that my greatest accomplishment since Roxanne's death is to find my pure heart. They all share the credit.
Today's lesson? Real life can be a bitch. Circumstances change, priorities shift, needs take precendence over wants, comrades leave, friendships fade, loved ones die. Death, after all, is how LIFE 4.0 came to be. And so the circle begins anew. In this game, there are no ultimate victors. The goal is to enjoy the ride.
No comments:
Post a Comment