- Gustav Flaubert
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| Jenna Adams |
He was warm, protective, smart, and really generous - with a hilariously dark sense of humour. He somehow managed to be silly and quietly dignified at the same time. Our friendship got off to an amusing start when we met at a party where (after a few drinks) I accidentally tried to introduce him to his sister. He was one of those rare souls with whom you could have fun while doing absolutely nothing. I felt understood by him, and it's very hard to accept that he is gone.
As soon as he told me his diagnosis (esophageal cancer), it seemed like I instantly knew his time was very short (because deep down he knew, I think), but it's still hard to believe it could happen this quickly. It was a beautiful sunny morning a week ago when the news came that he had died - the last day of summer, in fact. For a second the cheery weather seemed at odds with the knot of grief in my throat. But after I cried for a few minutes, I had the sensation that the weather was warm... like him. I had a little thought, like, "Maybe his spirit is in the sunbeams now?" and that seemed fitting.
His self-deprecating sense of humour was still present in his emails from the hospital at the beginning of summer when he first received his diagnosis - he said, "...as you can tell there is plenty of feeling sorry for myself, but the idea will be that if my time is limited to enjoy it as much as I can."
And...
"I'm not a maudlin person, but sometimes you have to let go. I just want you to know how important you've been to me, I've enjoyed every moment I've spent with you."
And think happily of the memories...
So, I've been thinking... Platitudes like "everything happens for a reason" don't seem comforting, they seem vague and reductive and trite. I don't know if I'll ever see a reason for Steve to suffer and leave us so young. Instead, I prefer the matter-of-fact way that novelist Kurt Vonnegut describes the difficult things we mortals wrestle with. He doesn't try to explain the inexplicable, he simply says, "...And so it goes." (Slaughterhouse-Five) That feels more right to me. Sometimes being alive means hurting an awful lot, and there's just no pretty way of saying it.
But... my friend was brave. So I will try to be, too. Rather than be maudlin, I can try to think about the last lessons he leaves with me...
And I guess it's this: for all of us, our time is limited. We don't know what that limit is, but we do know our time on this Earthly playground is finite. I don't want to lose focus on what really matters - which is, in fact, very little. Our relationships with other people are important, and not a lot else. Not our egos, or our reputations, or our accomplishments. I want to try to do right by the people and situations that are entrusted to my temporary care, and to try to leave more of a positive trail than a negative one in my wake. When dealing with people, I will ask myself, as Suze Orman suggests, not only 'is it true?', but also 'is it kind?', and 'is it necessary?'
There's no making sense of his passing. But I can accept that a lot of things are out of my control, and moving forward, I will try to sweat them far, far less...
And of those things that are in my control, my goal will be simply to leave anything in at least as good a condition as I inherited it. To realize that whatever small gifts or talents I have are not mine, but mine to share.
Most of all, I want to savour the present moment and have more fun with it. I want to really suck the juice out of this lemon while I can - and then leave with no regrets.
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| Jenna Adams |
On that note, this traditional Scottish & Irish folk song sung by Ed Sheeran feels like a suitable tribute... (An early version of the poem is sometimes attributed to Sir Alex Boswell.)
The Parting Glass
Of all the money that e'er I had
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all
A man may drink and not be drunk
A man may fight and not be slain
A man may court a pretty girl
And perhaps be welcomed back again
But since it has so ordered been
By a time to rise and a time to fall
Come fill to me the parting glass
Goodnight and joy be with you all
Goodnight and joy be with you all
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all
A man may drink and not be drunk
A man may fight and not be slain
A man may court a pretty girl
And perhaps be welcomed back again
But since it has so ordered been
By a time to rise and a time to fall
Come fill to me the parting glass
Goodnight and joy be with you all
Goodnight and joy be with you all
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| Jenna Adams |
Cheers to you, Steve. You were important to me too.
- Helen Keller
