The beauty and mystery of gardens.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
What is this thing called "death?"
Tony used to work on my cars for me and apologize for what he had to charge me. He was full of helpful advice regarding taking care of my automobiles. He had clear and uninhibited opinions about many things including my son's cars and how he took care of them and drove them.
He was ribald and loved to laugh at his own jokes. He was constantly aware of who was driving by and would know who they were and if they had been good to him or not. And if they were out to get him.
He recently told me that when he was a young teenager because his step-dad and mother were disabled he would often be kept home from school to drive them to medical appointments or whatever. And that his step-dad was abusive and he would take measures to avoid being hit even while he was driving.
Anyway, whatever, now he is no more. At least here. He was working on clearing land near his house and his backhoe wouldn't start and then I suppose unexpectedly it did and ran over him. At something like 36 years of age his life here is done. Complete. Over.
Now his wife is without a husband and his son and daughter have no dad. Now for them I imagine there will struggle and memories and faded pictures.
And I am in this surreal world where I drive by his house or drop off some flowers for his wife and I avoid the torn up patch of ground where I suppose the accident happened. The backhoe thankfully is gone.
Something has ruptured. The world feels different. I look out my window towards the direction of his house and tears well up. I'm not entirely sure why but I think it has to do with unfinished business and what seems like the futility of life. One cantankerous backhoe and death shows up eager and vengeful.
Anyway, there will be a memorial service and a burial and life will go on.
For some reason I don't even consider "where" Tony is now. I choose to have a certain belief regarding God and so I don't worry about Tony. His life with in some ways was always a struggle is over and he is in love. I don't know where, I don't know how, well actually I do have a clue, but I'm sure he is well taken care of.
So here I sit with no answers really. The sun is shining, the rest of the household will get up and life on the surface will go on. But I tell you something was ruptured and will never be the same. For me at least there is a golden remedy that fills the cracks but the cracks of life are always there even though the event of the breaking may fade.
Rest in peace, Anthony Clark.
He was ribald and loved to laugh at his own jokes. He was constantly aware of who was driving by and would know who they were and if they had been good to him or not. And if they were out to get him.
He recently told me that when he was a young teenager because his step-dad and mother were disabled he would often be kept home from school to drive them to medical appointments or whatever. And that his step-dad was abusive and he would take measures to avoid being hit even while he was driving.
Anyway, whatever, now he is no more. At least here. He was working on clearing land near his house and his backhoe wouldn't start and then I suppose unexpectedly it did and ran over him. At something like 36 years of age his life here is done. Complete. Over.
Now his wife is without a husband and his son and daughter have no dad. Now for them I imagine there will struggle and memories and faded pictures.
And I am in this surreal world where I drive by his house or drop off some flowers for his wife and I avoid the torn up patch of ground where I suppose the accident happened. The backhoe thankfully is gone.
Something has ruptured. The world feels different. I look out my window towards the direction of his house and tears well up. I'm not entirely sure why but I think it has to do with unfinished business and what seems like the futility of life. One cantankerous backhoe and death shows up eager and vengeful.
Anyway, there will be a memorial service and a burial and life will go on.
For some reason I don't even consider "where" Tony is now. I choose to have a certain belief regarding God and so I don't worry about Tony. His life with in some ways was always a struggle is over and he is in love. I don't know where, I don't know how, well actually I do have a clue, but I'm sure he is well taken care of.
So here I sit with no answers really. The sun is shining, the rest of the household will get up and life on the surface will go on. But I tell you something was ruptured and will never be the same. For me at least there is a golden remedy that fills the cracks but the cracks of life are always there even though the event of the breaking may fade.
Rest in peace, Anthony Clark.
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