nin137

Life and Death

moving along the road of reality i'm starting to learn a
lot about how people perceive life and death. not
surprisingly people view the concept of life as a cynical
ploy that just amounts into the cruel joke of death at the
end. death abstractly bounces off of me like a rubber
bullet. my grandfather died last weekend. my mother
called me as i'm on the metro, catching me completely off-
guard. hearing her soft crying intermingled with the
ratchety sound of the metro bumping along its way was
enough to make me feel queasy.
i felt horrible having to muster some feeble attempt at
consolation and just feeling that i was failing miserable
bumbling along lines that seemed as set up as the rails
leading the metro along its way. for my grandfather i
suppose i felt relief, i know that the cancer hurt him
badly, not just physically but mentally. he was one of
the "other" generation. remember that one? where men
didn't bitch and moan about every god damn ailment that so
much as grazes our health. always standing proud and
tall, actually living through the wars instead of talking
about them in some bullshit academical sense. to those
people the constant whining about one's pain just felt
dumb and a waste of time, they accepted pain and injury
for what it was, just a part of life. life itself was
something that you lived whether or not it was a cynical
point was besides the point, it was something that was
given and the esoteric value that is always attached to it
in a philosophical manner was just an unnecessary burden.
he had his beer for lunch and he had his opinions. he
knew what he believed and what he stood for, not a man who
sways with the "reasoning" of debate.
you may know this persona as the "stubborn old man" hell-
bent in his own ways not willing to budge to the new
sentimental nature of our new-age enlightened society.
well my grandfather belongs to the lineage of people in my
family that i truly respect. i can not think of him
without thinking of my great grand mother. living to 92
always steadfast in her optimism. living through times
when royalty still ruled austria, to a time when she got
into a hell of a lot of trouble for giving vegetables to
people who had to wear stars, finally chiding gently the
times in which the thread-worn banalities of a society
occupied the lives of people. she and my grandfather
never understood the materialism and fanatical nature of a
capitalistic society.
their gift to me has been a lesson on how to love and care
for those who win your love and respect through their
actions. those who can have everything taken from them
and not cry about their misfortunes but realize that they
are no worse off. i'm sorry that i've lost my grandfather
it hits me when in my routine day-dreams of austria he
still emerges there standing on the bottom of the dirt
trail that leads to the lake, holding his hands out as i
run into his waiting arms.