More Random Observations

The Stoa has been on the road the last two days. Death in the family and all. These are good opportunities to re-evaluate your own life, as you ponder the ending of another.

While traveling, I frequently have to wait for connector flights. These can sometimes take hours. Many would see this in a negative light, but not me. It gives me a chance to watch the seas of humanity pass by, chatting about their lives and what is important to them in this frozen slice of time.

It also allows me to ponder things that have only been half-pondered in the past. For instance:

Every one of those people passing by have extended family trees. They all have grand parents, parents, siblings of some kind. They laugh and they wont. They tell jokes, and cry about the funerals they are en route to. I'm not much different then they.

Ethnicity does not come into play. I see Chinese fathers playing with their one daughter. I see a Korean mother counting to three before she is going to punish her son. I see black families, yes, families, move orderly through the airport. I see white dopers, stupid caps on their heads and everything, iPod buds growing out of the sides of their heads. I wonder how they paid for that stuff if they were always so high...

Seeing those people makes me think again on what it means to be a sentient human. I know I must be stealing from some classical writer here, and I apologize ahead for this one:

The part of us that makes everyone us is a spark. An energetic point, right between the eyes, for lack of any better geography. The body is simply the vehicle that allows it to move about within our material plane.

I feel that, like old worn-out cars, we eventually have abandon our bodies once they break down. We move on, perhaps finding a new vehicle later on. Another "model" to roam about in for the next 80+ years. It does not sound all that bad.

Perhaps we make arrangements on the other side before birth, deciding and selecting the model of vehicle we wish to tool around in. White, Asian...each has its own advantages, each has its own challenges. We pre-select based on our wishes. Ethnicity is no different then Ford, Chevy, or Nissan for instance. I must have selected based on size and durability. A svelte model was not in my cards.

As I helped to carry my Grandfather from place to place, finally ending up in the cemetery, I was struck by that symmetry. He was 90 and just wore out. It was time for him to move on and find another vehicle. I hope he spends some time with my grandmother, who has been waiting for him to join her for the last 5 years.

I see all of the extended family, many of which I have not seen since the last funeral. They are all older, and several are noticeably missing, having passed or being too ill to attend. There was a time, after seeing a slide show of his life, where his generational cohort were kids. Slicked hair and cocky attitudes. Pictures followed showing a young man courting a woman nearly 4 years his senior. Odd for the day. At that time he still had his own grandparents. His own parents, and his uncles. Over time, they began to pass, one by one.

Eventually, he was "dad" and "uncle". People came to his house to celebrate the holidays. The older cohorts were still around, though the vital webs of familial relationships had begun to break down due to deaths deletions. Then he was "grandpa", perhaps traveling to see his children and grandchildren. The focus was shifting from his cohort to that of his son's. Eventually, his friends and relations begin to age and die, joining those who had gone before, like his parents and uncles.

Today, with his passing, a complete chapter has now been closed. My father is the "patriarch" of that branch of the extended family, though the focus has already shifted away from him. The focus is on my generation now. His generation has already begun to fade. The GI generation hung on for so very long.

I am the patriarch of my family branch, though I am only 42. Odd, that. My focus is on my family. My children do not have this extended web and are poorer for it, I believe.

My daughter was born in 1997, my son in 1999. Both of them met my grandfather, their great grandfather, and my daughter actually remembers him. This man was born in 1921. My father in 1946. Myself in 1969, my children in 1997 and 1999. My son's eyes took in the memories of this man and will carry those memories deep into the 21st century. As long as we remain in the living memories of our descendants then we don't truly die.

My great grandmother was born in 1898. I remember her as she lived to be almost 100. My daughter has a vague recollection of her. This woman, who was born in the 19th century, is being carried around in her descendants, like my daughter into the 21st. There is something profound about this and it requires much time to ponder and to appreciate.

I am sure he is in a better place now, reuniting with friends and loved ones decades past. It was a wild ride and he was in the thick of it all. I'm sure he has much to discuss with them.

I wonder which model he will pick next time?

Live well,

--Zavost