Well That Was Fun, Wasn't It?

Not quite myself today, but not why y'all might think. And it is all good folks - private e-mails can fix a bunch. Ryan has been writing essays for his college applications and I have had the privilege of reading them. Saying that they have ripped my heart out is a wee bit of an understatement. So let me say that politics was most definitely not on my mind today, just writing to get my mind off other things. And apparently a mistake that I will never make again.

"Ryan" photo by Gary Hurst

This was the easiest to get through: (permission from Ryan Hurst)


"I don’t remember much about proceedings. I couldn’t tell you what was said, or if I found it meaningful or not. I remember it was a bright white walled room that smelled sweetly of flowers. The atmosphere was morose, and I felt uncomfortable to be there. It was February 1997, and my baby sister had died. I was six.

If there ever was a good age to have your sister die, six would not be it. I became very confused, and pondered the subject of dying for quite some time, as if I could rationalize it. I tried to comprehend where my sister was, or if she was a person at all. Then I wondered about my eventual death, which troubled me. You could say I had my existential crisis a little early. I would always wonder as I was growing up about why bad things happened the way they did.

I came to realize that we don’t have forever to do everything, and that we should make do with what we have. We shouldn’t waste what we have. That dying isn’t necessarily bad, or something to fear. Everybody dies. That sometimes it is better to die, than to live in pain or be a ‘vegetable’ and not feel anything. The meaning of life, for me, isn’t to stay alive as long as you can. That the meaning of life, as I see it, is to find a meaning for life, whatever it may be.

We should be happy for what we got, even if it wasn’t particularly good or fun. It can always be worse. The experiences always help us in someway, even the bad ones. It doesn’t matter what happens, it how you react and learn from what happens that matters. The rest is in the details.

This was all inspired by my sister, whom I’ve never met or even seen. She taught me some of the most important lessons in life, without saying a word. She was an inspiration mostly, a conduit to these thoughts. I don’t know if she’s in an afterlife or not, but I am none the less grateful to her for what she ‘taught’ me."


*** end of Ryans essay ***


So let me just say, politics don't mean shit to me today...