Life and the alternative

I was invited to attend a memorial service on long island yesterday for a friend's son who checked out of life too early. The son was roughly my age and hugely successful but for some reason success didn't equate to happiness and a shadow fell across his spirit and he decided to leave this life. I felt and feel terrible for my friend...one doesnt have words for such things. I left my home on the upper east for a train to long island at 11AM, the memorial service was being held in a cemetery in Long Island and by the hand of god and fate and long island railroad "switching problems" I soon realized I would not make the ceremony..Regardless, I took a taxi to the cemetery, a jewish cemetery, paid my driver and jumped out of cab. I went to the main office and they were as helpful as a person at motor vehicles who was getting ready for their lunch break. I took a map and wandered alone around an empty cemetery, trying desperately to make the ceremony or what was left of it. I could find neither cars, nor people..Just me and the stones alone on a long island sunday. 


I found an old lady crying near a grave and was tempted to ask her for help but I didnt have it in me to bother her. When I passed her a second time she asked me if I needed help or directions. She offered to drive me around and I got into her car and we traded names. I could see she was fairly upset but I thought it pointless in asking why as we were in a cemetery and I was pretty sure I had that answer. I was on edge and stressed and cursing LIRR under my breath, I felt terrible being late for such a thing and I was trying to be very calm with the elderly lady and her act of kindess. There seemed to be a weird, sad light wrapped around the entire day. I wanted to be anywhere but there..I learned from a cell phone call the party had left the cemetery and were already on way to the restaurant where we were having lunch. I said goodbye to the lady and thanked her and said god bless, not even sure if jewish people say "god bless." it seemed like something to say at the time. I called my cab and found it was the same cab driver who dropped me off, he was a lively old black man with a good stories and a great laugh. He told me he once worked in a cemetery cleaning the stones but it was monotonous and there was nowhere to pee so you had to call the guy to come pick you up "they couldn't pay me enough for that shit" he laughed. My cell phone was dead and he had no idea where we were going so we got lost and my stress level increased by the minute and a mile like the meter in front of me. 


In time I found the restaurant and walked in late and sheepish and greeted the tables who were seated. A few red wines and my heart returned to pace and I was seated with some good people and I settled into my seat and started breathing again. I ordered fish, a salmon..I dont think I have ordered fish in 12 years. Looking about the room I got a sense of people coming together not to honor the dead but to honor this thing we call life. There was even some laughter and funny stories floating about. It started to sink into me (and I think of this often) that there is a certain thing about this game we call life, a certain something I can never put my finger on except to say that in the long run it is a damn good gift. A gift that can sometimes seem like a curse but all in all life (as one great philosopher said) "is something that shouldnt be" what are the odds that we are here on this planet, alive and breathing and laughing? it makes no sense to my brain that we are even here. There are more questions than answers and that is just the way it is, the way it has always been. I suppose one in 10,000,000 is actually is able to comprehend the magic that is life while they are in it--they are the buddhas and the christs etc. Most people scurry around from shiny thing to shiny looking under rocks for something called happiness, the more you look for it the more it hides..The dog never gets to bite his own tail in the end he circles and circles. Monks and mystics are few among us and for many life seems like something to survive and bear at best, we fret over a million things and then one day they inter us, our best deeds sleep with our bones. 


I got a ride back into NYC and as I got closer to the city I felt the same excitement I feel every time I return to my spiritual home. The days stress was behind me and I thought about the cemetery and the old lady and the cab driver with his street wisdom and then I thought about my deadlines and they didnt seem like such a big deal. Life is a short and strange train ride, some people decide to get off early--they check out of the game. Back in my little hobbit hole apt. I thought about my day and my life---Some people in life find the magic in the middle of all the sham and drudgery  while others bear life like it is a curse to be born. That old cabby seemed to still have a few coins of happiness tucked away in his pocket which he shared with me in his own way--- it cant be pleasant driving stressed out and late strangers around. I cant imagine the pain of losing a child nor do I ever want to know that pain, I guess life can hit you in the gut pretty hard and knock the wind right out of you...I suppose time does heal all wounds but time can be a cruel and slow passing thing when grief is the dominate emotion.  I guess in summation it is laughter, no matter how bad it gets one can find the humor in life. Humor has kept me going through the dark days and it will probably be with me until my toes are pointed skyward. Never forget how to laugh...god bless.