Death

It seems to wait for us all, doesn't it? Yet, most of us go about our lives with nary a thought to the magnitude of what it means. Sure, we set up accounts for our loved ones, we make plans for the inevitable and we sometimes are forced to think about the enormity of it all. But for only fleeting moments. We return to our daily lives and forget about those concerns.

We have to. If we spent every day waiting for impending doom, we'd not accomplish a thing. Work would be ignored. Chores would go about the wayside. Our family life would be in shambles. Clearly, this is the human way to live a life.

Every now and then, I visit Anthony's Facebook page. I look at a face both familiar and unfamiliar. It's hard to believe that he has somehow left us, it seems as if it were only yesterday that we shared a laugh or engaged in some sort of mischief. It still brings tears to my eyes when I have to remember that there is no tomorrow to visit with him. Only yesterdays.

But that brings about other concerns, largely for my family.

Who would be there for Emi should something happen. Or for Hope? I have certain expectations about where they would go should the worst happen. Yet, at the same time, it is utterly inconceivable. Utterly.

Such are ramblings on a Monday night. A full work day, very little time with my girls and two hockey games later, I'm left to my own devices in my living room, surrounded by an explosion of Emi's toys, camping gear and our clothing. Such things happen when you spend your weekends playing and shirking the duty of chores. And late night memories of a friend now gone.

I miss you, Anthony Sloan. It's been too long since we last chatted.

"O Death
O Death
Won't you spare me over 'til another year"
-Ralph Stanley