I guess that is terribly bad news for me. Because for the past few weeks, I felt that my privacy has been invaded. And I have been wishing to be left alone. But Blue Man tells me, that no life is a waste. The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone. So I have been wasting my past few weeks wishing to be alone. Because I am unable to handle the close proximity of these strangers, strangers that are just family you have yet to come to know.
Sigh. In some sense it is the truth. These are the only family members I have here. And like all family, we each have our own characters and quirks. And thus we will have our own squabbles and discomforts. But I build a wall so high around myself, and keep myself so secluded that sometimes I guess I asked for it when I get excluded. Because people like fairness, and thus if you don’t include them, they find it hard to include you too. And I can sense it better now because of the proximity which explains my resentment towards the move. This also explains why on a sunny weekend, I am cooping myself at home, watching the film version of a book by the author which I still very much admired. And retrieving the rest that I was not entitled to last weekend.
Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to somebody else.
I sacrificed my last weekend because I have no excuse not to go. Even though it may sound like a nice gesture by the company, I admit I did not appreciate it because of all the hassle it had involved, all the flying hours it had accumulated and only for a short break. It had not been my style and if I really chose to fly that far, I would have spent more time. But that sounded like an ungrateful kid. We all make sacrifices but I was angry over my sacrifice.
Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do to others, we do to ourselves. No one is born with anger. It builds up over time, with the things we don't say and the things we bury. When we die, the soul is freed of it. Free to see the truth.
Hmm, though I don’t envision myself to die just to see the truth, that I had been childish to be angry with myself. That I have been stubborn to ask too many questions; not knowing if I will ever get the answers or not. But I did wonder, if I ever know I am going to die, will I do something different? And when I die, what happens to the lost love?
Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory, memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. Life has to end," she said. "Love doesn't."
So that was what memories are for, to accompany you when your loved ones depart. It need not be permanent departure. Although sometimes I do worry about that; especially pertaining to my parents. It is often said that parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. And it is not until much later, as the next birthday comes, as the body gets weaker, that the children will understand, their stories and accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their parents.
But what if I had accomplished nothing? Zilch. What if the feeling that I was never supposed to be there, was right all these while. The feeling that I never belong here, that I am a nobody. Would I ever meet a Tala (which means ‘star’ in Tagalog and reminds me so much of my sponsored child) to explain to me my existence and worth? Maybe I should pay someone a visit. And understand that everyone has a purpose to life that not only affects their own lives but unknowingly touches the lives of others.
And that when the life ends, it is an opportunity to examine our lives, who we have touched, the choices we have made and the consequences of our choices. It was never about judgement day.
Photo thoughts: When I was thinking of a photo to accompany the post, Luna Park came into my mind. Later while researching I found out that the fictional Ruby Pier draw many parallels to the real life amusement park "Luna Park" located in Coney Island. These parallels include...
1) Both parks are named after people close to the original owner
- Luna Park for owner's sister Luna
- Ruby Pier for owner's wife Ruby (one of the people Eddie meets in heaven)
2) Both parks had fires that lead to the loss of the original ownership
- Ruby Park's fire leads to the selling of the park
- Because of the expensive costs, Luna Park is let go by the original owner(s) (not sold away)
3) Both parks had/have very grand entrances
Credits: The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom (Book and Film version)
