New Vision Scrapbook

What We Fear in Death

Look at this list.

Add to it. Subtract from it. What is true for your?

What in this list is real and permanent? What is just the frightened worries of the mind, the little self, the mask we wear for the world?

Which fears can be avoided, skirted, banished through a better, more full life?

And what simply is unavoidable?

We aren't trying to give answers.

We are trying to raise the questions we all should be asking ourselves every day that we are blessed with life.

harvest

the end, an end, ceasing

ceasing to be

the end of self

the end of me-ness

the end of awareness

the end of thought

the end of feeling, the end of joy and sorrow

the end of sensation, touching, holding, grasping

separation, distance, aloneness

the end of we-ness

goodbye

goodbye, with no more hellos

(will there be more hellos??)

goodbye to those I love

goodbye to the heart and home of wife, lover

goodbye to the lover never known

goodbye to the laughter and skinned knees of my children

goodbye to lifelong friends

and chatter over barbecues and greetings at the grocer's

goodbye to the patient nuzzling of my cats,

the wild, sloppy greetings of my dogs

not saying goodbye

(did I say goodbye, I love you, don't forget me?)

maybe even forgotten

or never known

letting go

giving up, giving over

to have no more, no more

letting go of favorite comforts, habits, flavors, places, caresses

no more fudge brownies

no more ignored kisses

when leaving for work

no more hiding from the sun

in Saturday matinee movie caves

no more Ben & Jerry's ice cream

no more hour-long bubble baths

no more Van Morrison or Mozart

no more novels at 1:00 A.M.

no more slow, luscious sex

or warm, melting hugs

no more wriggling my bare toes

in cool summer grasses

unrealized dreams

unfinished business

chances lost, days unseized

never, never

never getting that promotion, award, gold watch, pat on the back

never visiting the south of France in early summer

never going to India or Ireland or the Aegean

never confronting the terrified faith of Michelangelo's David

never getting my book published, my art seen, my star to rise

never making a mark

never skydiving, kayaking, rock climbing, bungee jumping;

butterflies never felt by my stomach

anger packed down and made hard as coal,

not getting even, not settling the score,

still working on that snappy come-back

never earning that one last raise, that big bonus, winning the lottery just once

(is once too much to ask?)

never getting that cabin in the wilderness, that mansion on Country Club, that mortgage paid

never seeing awe in my son's eyes or pride in my father's

never accomplishing enough

never doing enough

never resting enough, playing enough

having been content, but not happy

having been comfortable, but not content

having been happy, but not comfortable

regrets

pasts that can no longer be made right

hurts that can no longer be healed

hidden histories and mourned memories

the cruel way I broke up with my first girlfriend

(youth and years don't erase the words)

the women I bedded, numbering them up,

having said I love you as I walked out the door

the bitterness I let creep into my heart and voice over long years

letting racist jokes slither by, chuckling at some

the arguments with my wife I never fully forgot

(and never won, but refused to lose)

the times I listened to advice rather than trusted my heart

the times I ignored advice and willed my own broken way instead

all the money and time I spent on bigger, newer, more

when I could have fed and clothed and healed

the causes I never fought for and the love kept corked in my heart

never letting it reach my hands,

choosing to hide in lukewarm anonymity

the time I spent working

when I could have been playing with my children,

sleeping in the shade of a patient oak,

gazing deep into my wife's eyes, gazing out into the vast horizon

the time I spent not working, when I could have brought wonders into the world

the time I never spent alone,

quiet, listening

the games I played, tangled webs woven

barbed words flung, hearts hurt

never having said sorry

no longer able to say sorry

having said sorry ten thousand times

and never meaning it

all,

all of this

and stepping into the Unknown...

- Ivan Granger

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