02/17/2017
Yesterday, during my walk to work, I narrowly escaped being struck by a moving car and pushed into busy oncoming traffic on Memorial Drive. Now, if you live in the city, this is likely to happen once in a while (that's the proper verbiage, kids, not "once AND a while"), and it was really no one's fault, since it was a bit of a blind drive and neither me nor the driver could see each other approaching. The driver, however, was moving at a pretty rapid pace, so if he had hit me I would certainly have been thrown into traffic, and more than likely killed, as traffic tears along that stretch.
At first, I was angry. The driver backed up and motioned me to cross, and as I got to the driver side of the car he rolled down his window and apologized. The expression on his face said it all - sheer terror and embarrassment, so I smiled and replied "no problem", and walked on. About five steps further, the reality hit me. I was mere inches from his car - I was actually leaning over the hood of his Camaro when we both came to a halt - so had I been one step faster, or had he left one second later that morning, I'd be dead. End of story.
It's no secret that I'm living on borrowed time. Five heart attacks, a mini-stroke, a constantly increasing seizure disorder, weakened lungs, and congestive heart failure are the status quo of my life, and my very skin hurts to the touch, so it goes without saying that I've come to accept that any and every day could, quite honestly, be my last. But I've grown immune to the finality of it. While I accept it, and try my damnedest to just endure and push through it all, I know there will come a day, sooner more likely than later, when I just won't be anymore. It's the fact of my life, and it's as mindless a part of my routine as brushing my teeth or lacing my shoes (which, frankly, is typically excruciating). It's along for the ride.
So I wasn't prepared for the affect a near miss with a muscle car had on me yesterday. Mortality suddenly took on a whole new meaning. A very immediate and threatening meaning. My mind was awash in nostalgia and reminiscence, and my thoughts turned to lost loves, fallen friends and family, and the people and creatures that make up the carnival of my soul.
I missed things, many things, for the first time in a great while. Holding a book and getting lost in its pages. Riding a bike at breakneck speed. Dinner with friends. Closing down the bar while you're still six hours from finished with the night. The touch of a lover's leg on my fingertips. Singing out loud with the car stereo on a long, late night drive. Catching a faint scent of your lady's perfume in the house when she's not there. Riffing on movies with friends at the house. That first, electric kiss from a beautiful girl. Playing kickball with cousins and nieces - and hearing the name "Uncle Thom" with an innocent excitement. My cousin Ken, and all the family I lost far too soon. My father. My friend and favorite cartoonist, and the endless stream of brilliant stories he had left to share with us. The smell of dinner cooking when you walk in the door after a nasty day on the job.
And a single day without pain.
Once again, I dodged that bullet. Not by choice or design. It just worked out that way. But it did the trick. It broke the block of ice that I've slowly been building around myself, and allowed me to - metaphorically, at least - breathe freely. For at least one more day.
It sounds cliche, but life is short. It was only a few days ago that seven-year old me discovered he was epileptic, and suddenly I'm in the twilight of my years at a mere fifty-four, my body and mind failing me faster than I care to admit. And while it is most often unbearable on so many levels, I am grateful for the conditions of my life that have taught me to forgive, and accept, and understand the living souls that contribute to my existence, and to always resort to compassion first, above all else.
I have known the love of some damn fine women, and have been extremely fortunate in the quality of friends I've made along the way, and each and every one has taught me the keys to a life well-lived.
Live without compromise.
Love unconditionally.
Learn constantly.
Leave a positive imprint on those you meet.
Anything else is a life wasted...
