the fragility of life
As I lie here in a hotel room bed, watching my brother, my sister, and my sister’s boyfriend sleep as the sun slowly creeps over the horizon, I am content.
It’s sad to ponder. The reason why my sister and her boyfriend are here is because one of my sister’s friends died in a car accident on the I-80 in Nevada (especially eerie because one of my classmates died on this very stretch of road just this past summer.) The wake was yesterday and the funeral is on Monday.
It just further illustrates the dilemma of caring. On one hand, you’d wish they’d be careful and not do things that would put them in danger. On the other hand, you want them to be happy, and sometimes, to be happy, they have to act on risks.
Nothing in this life is certain, except that we die. (Like much of what I write here, it’s depressing, but true.)
But the sun is sparkling over the Bay. It’s beautiful. I wish I could bottle up these moments, when I’m feeling well and at peace, and just build up a stockpile of these emotions. I would uncork them again during the long, hard winter of my exile in the Midwest to help me endure the darkness.
