A Short Post

Postcard from PostSecret.com website

One of the things I look forward to each week is the new post from PostSecret.  People mail in their secrets on postcards.  I've used quite a few of them as story prompts quite successfully.

This particular card stood out a few weeks ago.  I thought about how often we give others a pardon while beating ourselves up for past mistakes. 

The Tang of Emotions

Yesterday I was driving to work and looking at the incredible beauty of the trees.  For a while I thought fall was going to bomb out - the leaves were dull and lying brown on the ground.  But suddenly it was as though every tree I saw was brilliant red, coral, orange, and yellow.  I kept slowing down to look; I wanted to enjoy each and every one. I felt high on the amazingness of it all.

A few blocks from work, I saw an older man by the side of the road.  He was holding a gas can; his car had obviously run out of gas. I felt teary, thinking about older people and their vulnerability, how so many of them are living hand to mouth, how some are sick with no one to take care of them or help them maneuver the intricacies of doctors and insurance and Medicare.

I went from happy to sad.  Just like that.

Toward the end of his life, my father cried quite a bit.  He would be talking on the phone about something in the news, maybe a child being hurt, and the phone would go silent.  I would hear a sharp intake of breath and then he would start talking hesitantly about what had happened.  Many things could reduce him to tears.

I've been thinking a lot about that this week. When we lose someone we love, two things happen.  One, the sadness around the loss is added to the sadness of all other losses we've suffered.  It's exponential.  Secondly, every loss we suffer makes us more empathetic to the losses of others, so we feel theirs more keenly.

At eighty-eight years old, my father had lost his mother and father, his wife, two sisters, and all but about three or four of his good friends.  Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins.  The amount of sadness he had felt in his life is hard to imagine.  It must have weighed a ton.

My father knew how to laugh too.  He laughed heartily at a good joke or grandchild's antic.  He loved a clever cartoon.  His laugh was loud and tears ran down his cheeks sometimes when he couldn't stop the hilarity from roiling up.

What I decided after all this thinking is that as we get older, some things do become duller.  Maybe our eyes get cloudy, we say "Huh?" more because we don't hear as well, our knees and shoulders creak when we move.  But what gets sharper is our ability to feel deep emotion, to empathize from a place of our own cumulative sadness and happiness.

Someone behind me on the road to work may have thought, "I wish that old woman would just go on."  But the glory of those trees and the poignancy of that elderly man by the side of the road stopped me yesterday and I needed to feel the tang of emotions that welled up.

What It's All About. Yeah.

You're not going to believe this, but that election we just finished?  That ain't what it's all about, folks.  In fact it wasn't even a little bit important to some people in this world.

While the rest of us have been posting vitriol on Facebook and wishing a pox on our enemies, bemoaning the overkill of campaign ads and doorknockers, some people have been suffering.  Suffering loss of home and life, loss of dignity and the means to support themselves, sitting at the bedsides of loved ones and saying the ultimate goodbye.  Asking what the heck happened and what did they do to deserve it. And maybe worst of all, there are people who have despaired of finding hope and the strength to face it all.  I know a few of them myself, and the past few months have been pure hell for those people.  Real hell, not just campaign hell.

To them, I send my love and support and share this beautiful song by Whitney Houston. Listen if you can take the time; read the lyrics too.  Then go let somebody know you've been thinking about them. Write a note, email, or make a phone call.  Go visit your parent in the nursing home.  Take a meal to a friend who hasn't been feeling well.  Look the person talking to you in the eye and listen. Hug your husband or your kids or your cat. Write a check to a charity or take some food to the Food Bank. Send your compassion out in as many ways as you can think of.  Because maudlin as it may seem, that's what it's all about.

The people to whom these lyrics speak need you. Badly.

As I lay me down

Heaven hear me now

I'm lost without a cause

After giving it my all
Winter storms have come

And darkened my sun

After all that I've been through

Who on earth can I turn to?
I look to you  I look to you  After all my strength is gone  In you I can be strong
I look to you  I look to you  And when melodies are gone  In you I hear a song, I look to you

About to lose my breath

There's no more fighting left

Sinking to rise no more

Searching for that open door
And every road that I've taken

Led to my regret

And I don't know if I'm gonna make it

Nothing to do but lift my head
I look to you  I look to you  And when all my strength is gone  In you I can be strong
I look to you  I look to you  And when melodies are gone  In you I hear a song, I look to you

My levees have broken, my walls have come

Crumbling down on me

The rain is falling, defeat is calling

I need you to set me free
Take me far away from the battle

I need you, shine on me
I look to you  I look to you  After all my strength has gone  In you I can be strong
I look to you  I look to you  And when melodies are gone  In you I hear a song, I look to you
I look to you  I look to you

(Song by Whitney Houston)