A handshake

Getting the news that a close friend has lost a parent is never easy. While many would think it does remind me of losing my Mom, the overwhelming sadness I feel is that someone I love has to go through what I went through a few years back. That's what brings me down. It makes me angry. We all will die some day, but going out on uncertain terms, on someone or something else's rules, it just angers me. It's what I wish I could take away from people having to feel what I felt. I wish I could bottle it up inside me so they didn't have to feel it. 

I met Rick by chance I would say. The actual details of the timing of his being near my old apartment are a little blurry. I think to drop his daughter off, but not 100%. His daughter, a long time friend who has always cared about me and my family. I had never really known much about Rick. I knew his daughter and her sister, but not him. That day, I got a chance to physically meet him. An engaging man, what for me was an exciting meeting, a firm handshake, a look you in the eye type man. Not someone who was going to overpower you with all the things he felt, but very interactive, welcoming, listening, respectful, cool. I know exactly where I was and everything around me the day I met him. On my city street, some shade on our side, in between the parked vehicles, just rambling and crossing over to my apt for a quick bathroom break. For all the time I had known his daughter, our meeting I felt was destined to happen at some point. We spoke briefly, shared some laughs, and he was on his way down the road....

Fast forward to a time when Rick had to endure some lengthy health issues, my friend visited her old hometown and her house. Walking in the house was to walk into Rick's life. One of inspiration, love of nature, love of the sea, love of engaging people, love of being around people, a cold beer at "Rick's Bar", a home he built, in a part of Pennsylvania that I just would say emulates where God wants us to be. Amongst the trees, the animals, the sky, the water, our family, our friends, our pets, our hearts. Everything I took from his home, stuck inside of me. A man who truly loved just about everything a life could offer. Granted it's in central PA and not near the ocean, his love of the sea also came through. It reminded me of my mom's love for the ocean and all its creatures. The home, colorful with pictures, art work, books, hunting trophies and weaponry....I felt like I was meeting the Paul Bunyan of central Pennsylvania. His daughter shared stories of his favorite bar, him holding court, a funny story here and there, his job, his joys. 

When she shared the news I processed it, but then I just shook my head. I just asked why him? why now? I started to weap, I asked my mom to look after him, as I have done for some other close friends....I cried some more. Something felt off with me from the time I woke up. I couldn't get into a groove. When she told me, I couldn't come up with anything but the fact that Rick is back in nature, with his animals, in the sea, he's part of the Earth, in death, as he sureley was in life. I am selfish that I never got the chance to have a beer with him at his bar at home. I reckon I would've really enjoyed to do that....out there, where all you see are stars and you can dream. Out there where you're a part of the land and not just upending the natural flow of the planet by using all our Mother has to offer. I think about that part about Rick, his love for the Earth, his family, his friends, his love of his life. I shook his hand once and spoke to him on that day. What I take from that and being in his home....is try your damndest to love your life, love your family and friends hard, love Mother Earth....be grateful, be calm, be cool, be. 

My soul can find no staircase to Heaven unless it be through Earth's loveliness. - Michaelangelo