Carrie Fisher, George Michael, Glen Frey, David Bowie, Muhammad Ali, Prince. Leonard Cohen and Gene Wilder are gone now.
They are all dead and have gone off to wherever it is we go when we leave this plane. That might mean heaven, hell or it might mean nothing more than a dirt nap.
For me it means the end of people and connections to parts and places of some of my childhood and teenage years.
There is something sort of bittersweet about it all and not just because some of them died far too young but because the people that are part of the moments of our lives sometimes occupy bigger spaces and places.
The have an impact that resonates and echoes long after the moment and we…remember.
A Time Waster
I remember being told in school not to to be a time waster and how some stressed the importance of always being aware that we can never get a minute back.
It must have stuck with me because I have thought more than once about how much time we have left relative to how we are living.
I have thought about sitting some people down and demanding they really listen to what I have to say knowing that if they would only hear me they would agree with my position.
Thought about how it would be impossible for them to do anything but nod their head yes and how I would exhale and tell them I always knew they would see the light.
And then I thought about whether that was really possible and wondered if maybe it was the kind of pipe dream that might get me labeled as a time waster.
I have lived Twain’s words and know for certain there is truth in them.
Some of the moments in my life come from the truth is stranger than fiction and were there no boundaries in blogging I would share them here with you.
But there are boundaries and for the moment these tales are for limited sets of eyes and ears.
So maybe we’ll go a different direction and I’ll tell you about how Carrie Fisher took my daughter’s iPhone out of her hands and smashed it.
I’ll tell you how her anger and rage led to my having to spend money I didn’t have on an unexpected and somewhat unwanted Chanukah gift called a new screen.
Except Carrie Fisher didn’t smash the phone as herself or as Princess Leia and it is not just because she is dead either.
Otis Redding is on the radio now and I am thinking about how much I enjoy his music and how I wasn’t aware he lived until years after he died.
Lost in thought I wonder about the people we impact directly and those who feel our touch later on, maybe never knowing that we are the original architect of whatever it is they just felt or experienced.
Makes me wonder if a man four or five generations older than I might still be impacting me today because the lesson(s) he imparted on his son was handed down through the ages.
My great-grandfather was born during the 19th century and I am certain his influence still impacts my life, but how much farther back might it go.
Could some relative from the 18th or maybe earlier be a part of my life in a way I am not aware of?
What Matters Now
What matters most to me is what is happening now because I am living today, not a hundred years ago or a 100 years from now.
Today is the critical moment and it is part of why I find myself pacing late at night because I am dancing in the fire and racing across the razor’s edge.
There is a dream on the other side of that rainbow and I am working my ass off to get it with the hope that doing so will lead me to somewhere special.
But there is no way to determine whether it is a time waster or something more than that.
The only way to figure it out is to take those steps into the darkness and to see where they lead. It is a mixture of excitement and fear.
Maybe the naysayers are right and I am certifiable. Maybe I am totally crazy or maybe I am crazy like a fox.
Can’t know without trying and I can’t not try so I am pushing ahead because I only know what I can do.
2016 is one of those years that I think I am going to remember, much of it has been pretty damn good, but the bad stuff has been simply awful.
Truth really is stranger than fiction.