What is that “something?”

Beware the writer who begins with no idea of where he or she may be going.

Such will be the beginning, the middle, and the end of what you have had the courage to, so far, pursue.

It’s alright to grow old. So many people don’t have the opportunity to make that statement. I once held an eight-month old baby who two weeks later died of crib death. He was a handsome baby, big and strong. He had a great smile and an even funnier laugh. When Justin laughed, everyone around him either smiled or joined in his laughter. It doesn’t take much to make an eight-month old laugh, and it’s such an innocent laughter. It’s too bad he never lived to grow old. What would he have been? Would he have made what society calls “major contributions to the well-being of mankind,” whatever that might mean? Would he have been a serial killer and blight on society? Or perhaps he would have just been a man; a man, who lived his life, was wounded in some military conflict, got married, had kids, owned a house, made enough money to send his kids to college, grew old, and died. We’ll never know.

Who is to say what sets one person apart from another. Why, for example, was it Jonas Salk who discovered the cure for polio? He came from Russian Jewish parents who were immigrants and who possessed little formal education. Why did he decide to pursue scientific research instead of medicine when he was, of all things, attending a medical school? Certainly, back at the time of his studies, the practice of medicine would appear to have been more lucrative than the pursuit of scientific ‘discovery.’ Perhaps he had taken to heart what President Calvin Coolidge had to say, that, “Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘Press On’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.” But why Salk? We’ll never know, but the fact that he did has saved millions of lives.

Are we failures if we don’t make “contributions” to society? Will we die earlier than others? What is a contribution, anyway? Is being the best father or mother you can be a contribution? How about being the best husband or wife? Better yet, in today’s society, how about being the best partner, male or female? Why are some lives snuffed out at eight months and others go on for over a century?

Let me twist a bit here and tell you what I believe. I believe that there is some Power greater than any of us. You may call that Power, for want of a better word, God. You may also call the Power, Allah, Elohim, Jehovah, or any other name by which you wish to designate your particular Power. One of our children was born shortly after my wife’s father died. My wife was talking with her about her grandfather when the child was about five. “I knew him; I met him when I was coming down,” the child said. It was a statement that both terrified and horrified us. Our daughter was dead serious…scary stuff.

I firmly believe that the Power puts us on earth with a purpose in mind for each of us. We have no idea what that purpose is. Perhaps it is merely to entertain or be good to someone or some people for a few days, weeks, or months. That may be that being’s sole purpose. If that is the case, then it must also be that the being is also responsible for bringing unbearable sorrow when it leaves. My wife and I had nearly 51 years together. When I tell others that she died of cancer, they invariably say, “Oh, I’m sorry.” While I never take the time for a long discussion, I will usually respond with, “Please don’t be. Death from cancer is very unpleasant.” I suppose that death by IED or car crash or anything else isn’t all that great, particularly if you’re in your twenties, but watching someone waste away from cancer isn’t exactly a joy to behold either. Anyway, in our time together, Joan worked at a job that might have been considered more difficult than my own – I worked at an income-producing job. She worked at raising three kids and instilling values in them, and did one hell of a job doing so. She did Girl Scouts and mini-boy scouts. I did Little League. We both spent 25 years in chlorine-filled swimming pools with our “jock-wannabes;” We saw all three go through college, fall in love, get married, and have kids of their own. Did we make a contribution? Is that why the Power put us here on earth? Why did the Power take my wife back before ‘it’ took me? Am I being punished, or do I still have another job to do? When I die, will these questions be answered for me, or will the light just go out with answers remaining only as questions? Is this really Philosophy 101?

I’m getting along in years now. I’ve made it this far, but the stairs get higher most days; the print on this page is kind of blurred, even with my ‘computer glasses’ on. Exercise is a great help, but I notice on those days when I don’t, I feel a little more tired, and that becomes a concentric spiral downward. I do hope that there is something left that is expected of me. Might be nice to stick around and perhaps even learn what that something is.