Sensing a presence standing above me I look up to the iHop waitress standing there. She looks disconsolate.
“I don’t want to upset you sir…” <pauses, apparently to let me prepare myself> but I can’t make you that vanilla milkshake…
The news of this tragedy was delivered with all sincerity and it actually made me laugh – not at her but at the absurdity of our lives. I think it was the word, ‘upset‘ that really triggered it for me.
I daresay that on of tne of the saddest aspects of being human is that, for the most part, most of us can’t long maintain a keen appreciation of our own good fortune.
And like most, I’ve experienced the death of loved ones, sickness and heartache. And as one goes through these events, we tend to, at least for a while, gain a different, perhaps broader perspective in life. The last two months has been one of those times for me.
I’ve also had the good fortune to visit poor countries and see first hand some aspect of true, long lasting poverty and suffering. If no other good comes from it, at least for awhile afterwards, I feel that I appreciate my own life a little better.
But after some time away from those situations, my mind adapts and I perceive my good fortune as the ‘norm’ and I take things for granted and, sorry to say, pine for more.
I don’t know… Perhaps this is a coping mechanism of the brain, so that it doesn’t burn out, allowing ourselves to relax so that we’re not always HYPER-AWARE of our circumstances and the precarious thread from which they hang. – I think the same thing goes for our mortality and the mortality of those we love.
Imagine somebody you love on their deathbed. Would you visit them? Would you call them? Would you say kind words to them? – I would hope so. And yet, all of our loved ones are just a step away from death but most of the time we live our lives as if there is always another tomorrow. Again: I think it may be a coping mechanism because we might never get anything done if we truly lived as if every day was our last (in spite of the clichéd songs.) – Who, after all, would go to work today if they thought they were going to die tomorrow?
And yet for a brief, silly moment today, as I sat in a heated restaurant, playing with the modern marvel that is my iPhone (even though it’s a generation behind – gasp!), as I waited for my delicious eggs and ‘Cinn-a-stack’ panckakes, I came to terms with the tragedy of the lost vanilla milkshake. I told the waitress that chocolate would be fine and spent the rest of my lunch reflecting on my undeserved good fortune.
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