This morning I woke up to terrible news. A friend’s father had died. While he’s not been well the last couple of years, he had been holding his own.
It came as a surprise.
Like any really bad news, it’s a bit of a shock when you first hear it. I gathered my belongings and headed to yoga in the dark. A block down the street I encountered a man propped up against a trash can.
“I hate my life!”
“I hate my family!”
“I hate God!”
He spewed the words across the landscape, the world his audience.
It broke my heart, again.
I’ve often have thought how cruel life can be.
I never wanted to have kids, but plenty of people do, and can’t. Why did I have the ability and they didn’t?
Why does Diane Rehm have a neurological condition that affects her voice, the biggest asset of her career?
Sometimes…ok a lot of times…I question the randomness of events.
Often they don’t feel random at all, but a cruel trick, designed just with you in mind.
I don’t know what happened to the man this morning that compelled him to announce his overwhelming hate of the world.
I’m going to guess he has a lot of reasons.
I wish him peace.
Even if only for a moment.
I wish peace to my friend who is suffering so much right now.
Life is so fucking hard.
And painful down to your very core.
Besides the painful news, I also woke up to a collection of old photos a friend sent.
She is my first friend in life, my oldest friend.
The photo says it all.
This is what life is all about, and so hard to find or to keep.
And they are peppered with all of the other moments, the hard ones.
Peace be with you, man on the corner.
And peace be with you, my friend.