Allison's Private Journal

9:44 PM
February 9, 2003

Dear Journal,

Oh God… Mr. K. died this morning. He had a heart attack at work. Oh my goodness. I just saw Al at CCD this morning + Dad talked to Mr. K. this morning at the extra-mart. I just can’t believe this. I had a game with Jackie yesterday.

You just never know what’s going to happen (Not to be rude or anything but just had to say that I got contacts yesterday!). But anyways, I feel so, so bad. I can’t even imagine if that happened to Dad. ugh lets not go there. If anyone in my imediate family died, I would probably have some major problems. I’d either like If I didn’t kill myself I’d definitely flunk out of school. I can’t handle those kinds of things. I’m so sad right now, ugh God I wonder what it will be like talking to Mike tomorrow.

—

It’s been seven years since my father had open heart surgery to replace a defective valve, and I still thank God every day that he was able to undergo that procedure. In writing this, I think of how lucky I am to have had my dad coach me in softball, drive me to private lessons, catch for me in the yard, and be angry as hell when I didn’t win MVP at my breakout tournament. When I think of Mr. K. and his kids, I see his daughter pitching to him at the edge of the woods during his son’s Little League games. I see them telling the story of how their cat was caught in the crossfire of a pitching session in their backyard and they thought they’d killed it. I see them laughing together afterwards, him spreading positivity through his overflowing love for his children, and she reflecting that outwards in her beautiful smile and reserved, content demeanor.

This event was one of two or three parent deaths I experienced within a close group during middle school. Since then, I have been witness to several more peers losing their parents and close family members to unexpected deaths and drawn-out bouts with sickness. I have maintained for half of my life that the deepest loss I have ever felt is that of my cousin, four years my senior, who died in a car accident when she was sixteen. I was twelve. I have not had to attend a funeral for a close loved one in almost eleven years. I realize I am extremely fortunate to have not yet had to endure the loss of a close relative, friend, mentor or coworker, but I am one of very few – as the years go on, I am increasingly anxious about the likelihood that death will strike my circle next.

I realize it won’t be as easy to say this in the wake of losing a loved one, but the death of a good person can ultimately comfort in helping others see the positive impact he or she had on others. We are all going to go some way or the other. This is still a difficult concept for me to grasp at almost-24 years old, but life, death, and time seem to be the only constants in this world. Out of that has come love and hate, good and evil, the compulsion to question and the desire to hold faith. No one has any clue what we are actually meant for and what happens when our bodies stop functioning, unless there is some seriously vital shit hiding in the Vatican or some other part of the world. Apparently, David Icke knows what’s up, but his views are extreme and difficult to swallow–if he’s right, we better keep moving towards the cure for death, or humanity is doomed to continue living in invisible bondage to the reptilian shapeshifters.

For those of us who dismiss his theories at least to some degree, I want to point out something my brother and I talked about yesterday. As a graduate of a Jesuit high school and Saint Ignatius superfan, Jake has had extensive education in the Catholic faith as well as all the major world religions. At 21, he has entered a period of life where he questions a great deal of institutions as legitimate ways of worship and the word of God, but he does insist that if Jesus existed and the Bible is true that this man was/is the greatest being to ever walk the earth in terms of courtesy and conscientiousness.

“He forgave PETER for saying he didn’t KNOW HIM, so that he wouldn’t get killed,” my brother exclaimed. “He forgave JUDAS for KILLING HIM.” Jesus, he said, had performed his most incredible feats by mastering human kindness and compassion. Remembering Jesus’ work is, for Christians, the most important part of conducting oneself, but I would argue we get almost as much by recognizing similar aspects (Christ-like traits, if you will) of people we have lost in our own lifetimes.

And so I end on this today, remembering average, good people who did average, good things in their lifetimes: whatever you choose to believe in, know that in the memory of people you loved, who loved you, there is left the most positive feelings possible you could ever feel for them. That is why we mourn when great people die, and it’s why going on with life as we knew it is impossible, because once they are gone we are made to adopt the parts of their lives we cannot live without by working them into our own everyday actions. This is not an easy process, and I truly believe I have been blessed with the avoidance of such loss so that I could have these kinds of revelations beforehand; I go forward knowing that my greatest effort in losing family and friends will not be to get over them, but to recognize in myself what good qualities I am missing that they had. This may be an overtly Christian way of seeing things–the whole point of believing in Jesus is to live and love as he, a perfectly conscientious being, did–but I believe it is the only way to keep living well and honor the spirit of those who leave before us. If it happens to be me who has to go first, I hope I’ve done enough good to make my friends and family happier than they are today. At least my mission of exploring the keys to happiness is one step further.