Gratitude. . for lives consciously loved through. . . . . .
She was a friend of the boys and came to share her grief with life; an aspiring legal mind that looked to reason the why of it all. She asked in despair, why did you settle for so little?
Words escaped me because life had given me so much. Yet her question haunted me all these years as I struggled with it. The question, unsatisfied with my answers, kept returning.
Have I lived a substitute life the erstwhile minds labeled, by allowing others to shine? That deserves its own essay with arguments.
How to evaluate others’ perspectives fairly without the ability to see behind their eyes? How to gauge the value of what I would have missed, taken other than the path destined? Big questions that deserve consideration.
I listened and watched for full impact of President Obama’s speech in Pennsylvania. His words impaled my skull. No, he said, we weren’t completely successful, but we made conditions better. I paraphrase because this is what I needed to hear.
And this, in my endtimes is what I struggle with. One would think that after a lifetime of hard trying one would have something, a tangible something to hold in one’s hands. But the prior President’s words were meaningful as he gave hope to the community workers needing guidance.
My teachers say it may not be in our lifetimes that we see the success of what we do completed. What has given me motivation and hope to keep on keeping on have been lives of great dedication to those values of mind. They have been a testimony to the commitment and devotion not only to intangible values but to humanity.
We are a country of immigrants granting second chances. We don’t junk humans. Even in our common singular lives we have many of those chances to better all lives we touch. It is not the road most traveled and it is not easy, but to make better is what should be our intent.
Perhaps teaching our young to persevere with good intent is to benefit the All, which is Life. Success is perhaps like this. . .my inlaw mother calling to me as she drew last breaths and took my hand. She lifted my fingers with a kiss to them. . . . and I knew she was grateful I was in her life.
For over a half century I tried. Easy, of course not with almost a century of rock driven issues for her to peace. The mills of the gods grind slowly. But her next borning in whatever world will be with an eager leap.
When we help to make better. . .Conscious Evolution with thanks to Dr. Jonas Salk. . . with love.
Portrait of Dante