Those of us who write for Duckworks know our editor Mike John. He's a wonderfully capable captain of technology. Recently his father died, peacefully, after a long life. Mike took a sailing vacation with his family in Australia, and I'm sure it was a memorable time.
As we all know, our time is enclosed on this planet. Every day we see is a day closer to our final sleep. If you are a Christian, you know we are all appointed once to die and then the judgment. Our flesh is a carcass in the ground, our spirit is in heaven. So we have only so many sunrises to prepare to meet God.
If you are not religious, you know that life is fulfillment. Some men have wars to fight, shortening their life or returning with dramatic memories. Some of us are farmers, with the daily reaping of crops as our accomplishment. Whatever the case, to know what will satisfy our soul is the happiness we can have.
If God is eternal like the sea, then we have this present moment. We are existential. We feel the wind in a way the angels don't. We feel it as like a soft girl's cheek, or like the torrent of arguing or a tidal wave of force, or a still small whisper. We have the inside of eternity in every moment.
The man is fortunate who knows this, religious or not. He can live inside each moment because that is what is human. It is also humane, coming to realize what is not always seen.
And each of us carries the past. I am very much like my grandfather, so I became a private mentor to my Dad in his last years. He would remember his father when he saw me. And I see my Dad in my youngest daughter April.
The ancient Greeks thought when the soul dies it goes into the River Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. But Mike will not forget his father. Life can be a circular bay, coming around to where it began. The old man sees the sea as the boy did, he once was. So the old man builds a model ship, a schooner to glide the South Pacific looking for an island girl.
And so we might wish Mike's Dad had the life he desired. I hope so. I will raise a glass to Mike's Dad. Might even spill some.
Paul Austin |