Early to the Funeral (Looks Like We’re Both)

Tuesday, July 18, 2017.
There is a man lying on the sidewalk, in the shadow of a dirty, white work van parked outside of my home. He is seeking shade with his friends, Yellow Broom, Empty Shopping Cart, and Neatly Parked Purple Bicycle. He looks dead, or at least like he wishes he was. Dead drunk in the brutal heat of the day. Motionless.
“I’m sorry, friend, but I have no spoons to give at this time.”
Nobody is helping him — Children walking by with their tiny dogs, clouded by sadness. Neighbor attempting to check in, receiving only a leg shake and a frustrated grunt in response, as if to say, “I am just fine here! Leave me alone!” Not a care in the world, or far too many cares. Impossible to tell from this current vantage point. Impossible to say in this state of motionlessness. But we are aware.
I understand the desire for such deep levels of solitude. I can relate to the unrelenting heat. I am envious of your peaceful, nearly motionless body. I will leave you to your corpse practice in love and empathy. And I too, shall escape, vicariously through you, if by nothing more than mere proximity.
“Should I bring you flowers?”
In a sudden wave of compassion, concern and energy, I ventured to check in and see what you might need.
“Could I peal you off of the floor with this rusty old spoon that I found hiding in my kitchen drawer? It was way in the back with the dust and the regret.”
And just like that, you were gone. Just like we all will be soon enough.