Everyone has a voice, and a choice to use it well, use it poorly, or not to use it at all.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

A Boy, a Man, and Death

He sat in his car on the side of the road - "a crash sight", he had said - mourning for his sister, S.J.

"This is a crash sight, my sister died here." The inner tears shook his voice.

A man drove past, then turned around in concern. "Are you all right?" Maybe he needs a jump or a jack.
Music rattled the windows as he sat there - what was he listening to? What was the soundtrack of his grief?
"I'm fine, this is a crash sight, my sister, S.J., died here two years ago." The man doesn't know what to say to that, says something like "I'm sorry, that is rough." Stupid words.

The boy stepped out, said "You're the first one to stop." Must have sat there on the side of the road many times over the last two years. The world kills your sister, then doesn't stop to offer a hand up.

"I'm eighteen now, she was twenty two when she died." He was sixteen when his sister died. She had probably just graduated college, he had just gotten his license.

The man is helpless. What can one mortal offer another in the face of mortality? We are children floundering in the sea.
"Can I pray with you?"
"Yeah man, that'd be good."

Transcendence rises up on the side of Old Richmond road. The cold night air makes the man's voice shake as he prays, the words coming in constrictions and waves. The man puts a hand on the boy's shoulder. He who has been loved much, loves the boy on the side of the road. How many passed by over the last two years?

A few hours before, the man had looked at the crowd of almost 25,000 and said "Have you ever thought about their futures? She'll get a divorce. He'll die in two days, in two minutes. I guarantee you, within two weeks, at least one of these people will be dead." Maybe it'll be me, he had thought.

Death is here among us. Life has a 100% mortality rate. Don't flounder in the sea - find a rock. Stand on it.

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