Peaches & Cream

I am currently vacationing with my family in a place where you have the freedom to act upon your whims & desires. So today, I put my book & water in a back pack & rode on my mother’s bike. I was in a somewhat melancholic mood & wanted a break from the world of the living, so I headed to a nearby cemetery located in a large & lush green park. Upon entering, I was engulfed in a world of peaceful solitude. Golden sunlight filtering through the trees formed a brilliant vale before my eyes as I cycled between rows upon rows of head stones, reading the names as I went along. After crusing for a while I sat by chance under a tree & near the grave of one William Meredith, who had been lost at sea in service of his country in the year 1944. When he died, he was at the young age of 35. A mere five years older than me! What a strange coincidence, I thought. And I felt a sense of affinity & closeness to this deceased stranger. Sitting near his head stone & gazing over his grave at hundreds of other dead brothers & sisters produced a feeling of wonder in my heart. It is quite a humbling experience to sit in the midst of so many people amongst which the only breaths taken are from your own chest!

I was also shaken by some conflicting emotions; should I mourn & feel sad for these people of the past?? Or should I rejoice for the lives they have lived & be happy for them! Involuntarily, with my hand resting on the head stone of William, I did shed a few overwhelmed tears. But in the end I decided. Out of the millions of sperm & the millions of people who could have been, it was us who have walked & continue to walk in this marvelous world. We were the ones given the chance. I had no right to be sad for William who died at such a young age; I have not seen life through his eyes nor experienced things through his own consciousness. I have no right to belittle his life & deem it tragic or sad because of his young age. His life was what his life was, and he lived it. That is beautiful enough.

At some point, in my minds eye; I reached out & held William’s hand. With his other, he held the hand of his neighbor Florence Jackson, who held the hand of Lee Emerson. Slowly, we all joined in a procession of hand holding; Elsie, Olivia, Katherine, John, Anna, Adreana, Bryan & on & on, until we all connected in a giant zigzagging circle under the trees, a group hug with the dead. And their message was clear; life, in its shortness; is beautiful & precious. When I returned later to the world of the living, the day was brilliant again.

And as I sat under another tree in another park, watching the world around me; trees seemed taller & greener, children cuter, couples sweeter, adults friendlier & pets even more adorable! I was in a friendly tango with the universe, a bliss only those who reach out with their being can find.

I decided then & there that I would never again waste a minute of my life worrying about misgivings or things I cannot change & that life is really, too short to be silent & take to the grave the things that are in my heart.