Sunday, January 22 2012: Handle
Wednesday and Thursday of this past week, I had a short moment of concern as my father entered the hospital complaining of chest pains. The results of the various tests they ran were all good. His heart/chestal region is in tip top shape and modern Western medicine has bothered to offer no more explanation for the pain he felt than "acid reflux, maybe?".
Anyway, the point is in the midst of this moment of panic, I was twisting and turning the topic to try and find a handle to grasp where the sequence of events would "make sense". Trying to glean meaning from the various possible outcomes. Preparing myself for "what may come".
I visited my father in the hospital on Thursday and shortly after I left he was discharged with a clean bill of health, but still later that night I was restless and watched about 3 hours worth of Hitchens videos. Watching the dessicated husk of the post-chemo Hitchens give interviews where person after person asked him "didn't you ever ask 'why me?'?", I had a sudden visceral understanding, not an intellectual assent to the proposition, but a profound realization that there is no meaning to be gleaned from my father's eventual death - no matter which way I turn it. It's the ridiculous squandering of a life; setting fire to a lifetime's worth of experiences and knowledge. We have a rather high view of ourselves and our place in the cosmos, but as with everything else it's an illusion. Mother Nature will garbage collect the bits and pieces she let us borrow to knit ourselves together in the womb and see to it that we are thoroughly and completely unwound and recycled, never to be seen again, except as echoes.
Anyway, the point is in the midst of this moment of panic, I was twisting and turning the topic to try and find a handle to grasp where the sequence of events would "make sense". Trying to glean meaning from the various possible outcomes. Preparing myself for "what may come".
I visited my father in the hospital on Thursday and shortly after I left he was discharged with a clean bill of health, but still later that night I was restless and watched about 3 hours worth of Hitchens videos. Watching the dessicated husk of the post-chemo Hitchens give interviews where person after person asked him "didn't you ever ask 'why me?'?", I had a sudden visceral understanding, not an intellectual assent to the proposition, but a profound realization that there is no meaning to be gleaned from my father's eventual death - no matter which way I turn it. It's the ridiculous squandering of a life; setting fire to a lifetime's worth of experiences and knowledge. We have a rather high view of ourselves and our place in the cosmos, but as with everything else it's an illusion. Mother Nature will garbage collect the bits and pieces she let us borrow to knit ourselves together in the womb and see to it that we are thoroughly and completely unwound and recycled, never to be seen again, except as echoes.
djt wrote:
If I learned nothing from Hitchens and the like... Life's a limited edition. Live it like there is no afterlife.
I hope your dad has many good days left!
~Dan