Memoirs of a Geezer
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Loss... The Wounded Heart!
It is of course inevitable, if sadly so, damn! We're not designed for permanence. We are not rocks or water or earth... or carbon, perhaps? Doesn't matter. In the hazy milieu 
of GeezerHood, we experience the loss of those we love and cherish! It's a rotten business! We usually don't care to think of it, or dwell on it, or wallow in misery as if figuratively, morosely standing at the "terminal bus stop," pondering the inexorable end of life!
Most recently, our dear friend, Susie, drifted away after 15 months of illness, much of it in agony and suffering, but through all of it she exhibited extraordinary courage and strength. In much of that time her attitude was laced with remarkable optimism, even hope, a quality her family and friends shared with prayer and bold attempts at a kind of sanguine bouyancy, a hopeful positivism, even cheerfulness, if a bit naive, knowing in our hearts that nothing could save her.
The chemo and drugs and therapy did little to mitigate the experience, while it devoured her time and her energy. She was far too good, loving and generous to have been
subjected to an end of life so damned undeserved. Her family and friends benefitted enormously from her kindness, emotional strength and loving spirit. She was a treasure among those of us who could never hope to compare!
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| That's her with her friend, or was it her pet... bald eagle! Such a good time, one of many travel adventures! |
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In early August of last year, 2024, my brother, Kris, succumbed to enough cancer to spread among those far less important and valued, far less valuable to the human species. He was another treasure, with a tremendous degree of talent and skill and loving generosity. His gifts endure and will long be remembered and cherished by everyone who knew him and were lucky enough to bask in the remarkable force and richness of his personality.
My sister's first-born of three sons died recently, nearly a continent away from his home in California. Too young! We weren't close, emotionally or physically. He was a good man; he looked after his grandfather, my father, during the latter's long hospice care. My nephew did so with love and generous kindness, temporarily minimizing his own academic and other more desirable, personal pursuits, the kind that would normally occupy the minds and physical activities of most vital young men.
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| That's him with Bride, Jaynie. It's an old picture, 1965 probably! |
I'm told there's such a thing as a peaceful passing, one that is not that sort of lethal dagger such as cancer and other horrific diseases, the kind that linger... I've known a couple, maybe a few, who died peacefully in sleep! Too bad we can't all book in advance such a ticket to the inevitable grave!
The eminent psychiatrist / philosopher, Carl Jung once said, or wrote, "Life behaves as if it were going on (forever)..." We all seem to harbor the illusion of immortality, suggested often in literature, including one of the writings of Jean Paul Sartre. The protagonist in one of the author's tales "surrenders that illusion..." and, his death sentence delayed, possibly reversed (I can't readily recall...), feels he is or may as well be dead, having given up, surrendered to it, admitting dully that nothing mattered any longer.
I don't know why the hell those bits of existential musings come to mind... Perhaps I'm getting a bit maudlin! I didn't mean to dwell on that topic, as in, where the hell did that come from...! Apologies...
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It seems a bit strange, maybe a little wrong, to introduce a topic that is perhaps an inappropriate digression... not nearly as heart wrenching or sad, but loss nonetheless... The subject is relocation... Moving! In summer of last year, we sold our house of something in the neighborhood of 28, approaching, maybe, 30 years, and moved west from our east side Milwaukee home to a large suburb. We loved living east, near the city's vibrant downtown area, near the big lake.
It was a difficult move, physically, of course, but emotionally as well, but one we regarded as timely and necessary. Many can
and will empathize, I'm certain. Getting rid of years of "stuff" is also a tricky and difficult undertaking. For some, sentiment presents a major obstacle. For others a pleasing relief to be rid of the often useless and unwanted clutter accumulated over the space of so many years. I hoarded several old telephone books, for example, often a subject of ridicule! (You know... important numbers circled and saved in case of need!)
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| The old house! |
and will empathize, I'm certain. Getting rid of years of "stuff" is also a tricky and difficult undertaking. For some, sentiment presents a major obstacle. For others a pleasing relief to be rid of the often useless and unwanted clutter accumulated over the space of so many years. I hoarded several old telephone books, for example, often a subject of ridicule! (You know... important numbers circled and saved in case of need!)
Well, gosh -- realizing I should put an end to this morose business -- everything we value is eventually lost when we finally meet, in the words of the incomparable W.C. Fields, "The Fellow in the Bright Nightgown." Meantime, for those of us still standing, we are best advised to savor the joys of life and its many adventures, its good, and bad times too, thankful for all we have, particularly for its real and enduring diamonds, namely, our loving family members and our cherished good friends!
So long Susie, Kris and Keith. We loved you! We'll miss all of you terribly. We hope, if those with religion and spiritualism in their hearts are right, you're in a better place, waiting for the rest of us to arrive, all of us bathed in the bright auras of joyful rebirth!!
(Humbly Submitted 02-28-2025... by Joel K.)
