Wasted days, sleepless nights

It was a day hot enough to make the devil sigh... or so the people up North believed. Sprinklers made slow passes over parched yards. Lawn mowers remained tucked away in garages, giving the neighborhood a much welcomed respite from their growls. Insects couldn't be bothered to flit from one wilting plant to another. Dogs took refuge under yawning oaks cooling their bellies on the moistened grass. As for me, I lazed in the hammock sipping sweet iced tea and wasting away the afternoon.

My companions were guilty pleasures, bittersweet daydreams of past and current loves, dark chocolates, a treatise on ethics, and a darling pup who loves me desperately in spite of my (many) flaws. We whiled away the day together...watched the clouds drift past and attempted to make sense of the past year. We were unsuccessful as most are who try to derive a logical conclusion from this wholly illogical life, but we were at last content.

Contentment is a rather rare and fleeting feeling these days. Too many irons in the fire, too many loose ends, too many unanswered questions. In the spirit of that old cliche, I was afraid to hold on too tightly lest it slip away and desperate to cling to it for the same reason. It did fade as the sun set; the day ebbing into night. My demons returned accompanied by the familiar foes of sleeplessness and uncertainty. I know it will be a long night. I would cease to fight if I did not believe that pain is what allows us to fully experience joy. So I continue.

Here's to the rest of you on this long night. May you get all your wishes but one, so you always have something to strive for, may misfortune follow you all your life, but never catch up, and may you be a half hour in heaven before the devil knows you're there.

Seth

I have seen more than the average person's share of death. I think it is fair; not everyone can handle death on a near daily basis. Some deaths hit you harder than others though.

My cousin Seth passed away today. He was barely twenty years old, just back from a tour of duty in Iraq. He was tall and thin, sarcastic, fun, and trying hard to get his life back on track. He loved his family. He was a hard worker. He loved the military. He was a good kid, a good man.

I remember when he first got back from basic training. He was going to be a gunner, so he had taken extra shooting courses. The family gathered up at Christmas, and we were shooting clays in the back field. He missed all but two of them. We teased him that it was easier to hit targets with cannons. He took it good-naturedly, like he always did.

He will be missed.