at what point?

Original post date: Friday, November 16, 2007


at what point?

Have you ever had someone close to you die?

The first funeral I went to I was 11 years old. His name was "T-bone", I don't know his real name he was this little kid that lived across the street from me when I lived in Guam. He and his mother were driving - in Guam the roads are made out of coral...instead of shipping in sand to mix with the concrete they use the sand from the beaches on the island. Well, Guam is a reef made island (I do believe there is some volcanic in there as well but it isn't active anymore...please confer with Jason on that one - he might know...?) and the sand on the beach is all ground up coral. Why pay to ship sand when you have it readily available? Anyway the roads are concrete made with coral sand. It makes them very slippery when it rains, and in case you didn't know Guam is very close to the equator, you know in the tropics, so it rains a lot. Where the @$% was I, oh yeah, T-bone and his mom were driving in the rain, they got into an accident and he didn't make it. That was my first experience at a funeral.

The next one was my Step Grandmothers. Her name was Juanita Parrish, but my grandfather (the one with the peg leg) always called her, and still does call her, Chick. "Chick was a school teacher." "Chick used to make the best greens." "I used to say, 'Come here Chick and give me a kiss.'" Just for some examples. I think I was 12. I remember the gathering after the funeral more than the actual funeral. Everyone was eating and talking about the experiences they had with her and how she touched their life. It was a very positive experience. I know that is a weird thing to say but it was.

The most memorable funeral I have ever been to was my grandfathers. John Stankiewicz. Everyone called him "Ski." That came from his last name, it was a military thing, I never really understood it, I guess it was a common abbreviation. I was really sick during the celebration of my grandfathers life. I went to the doctor twice during that week. I had mono but it was misdiagnosed as strep and the medicine they gave me for strep actually worsens mono...don't know how, I just felt like I was going to do die from asphyxiation. All of our family was there, even my dad came, that was a little weird, but he knew my grandfather before he met my mom so even though they were divorced he still came to say goodbye to him. I thought it was weird and thoughtful. During the funeral I drew my grandfathers casket with the American flag on it and the flowers, it was really pretty. I drew it on the only available paper I had, the service bulletin (I think that is what you call it, but it was Catholic so I am sure the church has a better name for it). I think I gave it to my grandmother but I am not sure, I know I redrew it from memory in my sketch book when I got back home.

Being down here in Sanford I think of him a lot. It is weird because I saw him, but not a super whole lot. We didn't live down here so I saw him maybe 20 of the 52 weekends of the year. But I cross over the river by the train tracks we would go under when we would go fishing.

My view of death is very different than most peoples...or I should say most people in my life. I am not afraid to die, I am not afraid of loved ones of mine dying. It is a part of life. I am not saying that I wouldn't miss or don't miss anyone that has passed away who was close to me. But it is a part of life, something that happens and we have to be ready for it at all times.

Now my question to you is - when it is time for you to go - (hopefully that will be a really long time from now) - will you be ready to walk out that door and disappear, always to be held in memory but satisfied enough with your life to be willing to say goodbye? Do you live your life that way - or do you live your life in fear?

...goodnight.