August 29, 2006
Originally posted June 30 2004
I was rummaging around in the compost of the 'pooter room when I found something that made sit cross-legged on the floor and study for a while. It's a notebook that I kept at work in January of 2001. I have a lot of notes about projects, deadlines and personnel issues, but there's one page in that notebook that froze my hand.
I made a list of names... all the people that I had worked with who were dead now. I had 54 names on the list and just looking at it today, I could add five more. I remember making that list, but I'm not certain why I did it. I believe that I was sitting at my desk one day, mired in some miserable paperwork, and I just needed to let my mind go elsewhere for a break.
So, I started thinking about dead people. (go figure) And I made a list.
These weren't just names on a piece of paper. They were people I KNEW. People I worked with, ate with, laughed with and played golf with. All dead now.
I don't believe that anyone becomes conscious of his own mortality until he's outlived a lot of people. That's one of the reasons that kids are fearless. They aren't familiar with death. They believe that they will live forever.
And I wish that they could.
That's a good story. It really makes one stop and think. Life passes so fast, we need to slow down and take it one day at a time.
Sadly, Rob's name is in that list now.
Several years ago, a friend of mine and I were talking about the kids we went to 1st grade with back in '62. Out of the 21 would could remember, 9 were already dead. That was '86, nad now he's dead, and I think another one.
I'm beginning to look at the obits and think, Gee, those people were too young to die.
We never know when we'll be next. So l try and live like I may not have another day.
How true. When you're 19 you feel invulnerable and your whole life stretches ahead of you. You can't wait to catch up to it. Then at some point, you feel your mortality and want to slow the whole process down, if not reverse it, so you can have your departed friends back and do it better this time around.
Sad post, but a good choice as we mark the passing of time since we lost our Acidman. Hard to believe it's been over two months. I think I still miss him as much today as I did the day he passed.
blog daddy lives on through his work though. going through the archives is a rich vein to mine. thank you, rob, for being a character.