An extended member of my family died this past week; an older gentleman brought into my life through marriage. There are people in all our lives whom upon hearing they’ve passed we hang up the phone and start thinking oh, fuck...how much is it gonna cost to get to the funeral, this blows my whole weekend but I hafta go, this sucks, etc etc etc. But after hearing about his death I sat back in my chair and wondered to myself why this particular news bothered me so much - I had met the man maybe 6 or 7 times over the last few years. Of course there was the empathy I felt for his loved ones; I clutched at how broken they must've felt at that moment - but why did I feel so robbed, why did I feel so cheated about someone I’d MAYBE seen once every two years or so?
Some people are so, for lack of a better word, GOOD that everyone that comes within their presence absorbs that goodness without even knowing it. You’re a jerk, you’re a complete asshole, doesn’t matter...sometimes you run into somebody that, for no apparent reason, you like - and, more importantly and maybe surprisingly, YOU WANT TO LIKE YOU. You’re a priest, you’re a thief, doesn’t matter: you want this person to like you.
Unfortunately for me I’m the opposite: I meet you, I want to hate you and everyone you’ve ever known, if not for any reason other than I assume you hate me. But some people have the gift to like all those around themselves unconditionally - and these are the people that get it back in spades. Giving your heart to all who come to you is a virtue, and we can certainly see it in those who claim to be our friends and loved ones. These people are, after all, your final tally.
I think he liked me; he certainly got a kick outta me, laughing while I was doing my “shtick” at any family get together. But what I’ll always remember are the times I thought I was respectfully outta earshot and let loose on some “blue” material and, to my embarrassment, realized he had heard me...I'd be horrified, but I’d see him looking at me, and I remember getting a laugh and a sly wink back. He got it, he understood. This train carries saints and sinners. This train carries losers and winners. This train carries whores and gamblers. This train carries lost souls. He got me.
Some people expect you to always be at your best, always in your Sunday suit. Anything less, they will let you know how disappointed in you they are. And some people would never make you feel that way; some people accept yourself as your own Sunday best. Happy you’re there, happy you’re okay and happy we’re all okay. We’re all here, godammit. Show up barefoot in Ocean Pacific shorts, well that’s okay, let’s tell stories til midnight and laugh our heads off. Someone like that, someone like that doesn’t have to win, and you don’t have to lose and neither does anyone else...cause he’s not fighting in the first place. Someone like him, everybody wins. A remarkable thing.
I wish it hadn't taken his leaving for me to learn this. But it did, and maybe with it goes some of my own anger, some of my own violence. One step closer to the land of hope and dreams.
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