Sunday, May 12, 2013

The geniuses are dying, why am I still alive?

Happy Mother's Day, to those of you who either have children or are talking to your mothers. I'm still not. My mother sent me some books on the Alexander technique, which I found very insulting. I've been to dozens of doctors and acupuncturists -- the cure for what is wrong with my knees can't be bought on fucking Amazon. So the last phone call I made to her was to scream at her to stop sending me books. I feel kind of guilty but also still incensed that the degenerate pervert is enjoying his comfortable retirement with her.

Two geniuses that I knew from high school are dead. One died of a sudden heart attack a few months ago. He was my age, a brilliant handsome architect. He was an expert on green building and also taught at a major university. And he had three kids.

The other was a year younger than I. He was a lawyer who did something very important with Homeland Security. Important enough for former Senator Joseph Lieberman to publish a tribute to him. He also had three kids.

So these men, who were poised to make immense contributions to the world, who had children and wives who needed them, are dead. And I'm still around. It just makes me wonder. I know life is completely random, or at least seems completely random to us before we die, when it might just be explained to us. Objectively, I know my life has no more or less value than theirs, I'm no more or less deserving.

But they had children. And I don't, and probably never will. I think that's what bothers me the most. That their children had to lose their fathers at such a young age. I know what that is like.

I'm hoping their widows won't freeze out their memories, and will help the kids remember their fathers. Because my mother did, and didn't. And maybe that's why I get some vengeful joy from denying her access to me. She wanted me to love only her, or at least to love her more than I loved my father.

I wonder if most people regret their lives, at the end. Look back at all the mistakes, the missed opportunities, the stupid choices that took them down dead end after dead end instead of resulting in accomplishment or happiness. Maybe I'll feel a little differently if I'm able to find an end to the knee pain, if I'm able to find a job that's more satisfaction than frustration. Right now, I know, rationally, that I make a difference for good in other people's lives. Does that compensate for the experiences I'll never have?
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

3 comments:

  1. Wow depressing.
    I would think that Yes- some people, those who are not introspective ( is the new word mindful? ) would possibly be slammed with regret at the end- or they might die as they lived , in ignorant bliss, clueless of their mistakes .
    You however- have seen your mis steps and mistakes- so i hope like me, you realize life is not a picnic and its as much about the struggles as it is the rewards . It has peaks and summits . Our perseverance ,our struggles and how we loved others -through and despite our " challenges"- our difficult times-is what i hope i remember. I also wish that for you its the enduring love and relationships you have maintained tended to and nurtured, again through and despite all the ups and downs life threw your way ! ;-) ROLL ON GIRL!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks :) And you are one of those relationships. I appreciate your friendship and support.

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  2. For the record, I also received this comment, anonymously of course:

    "Too bad you didn't pursue the Alexander Technique - but it does require some thinking to use"

    Assumption being that Ayelet doesn't really think, she just pisses and moans. This is why I'm no longer allowing anonymous comments. If you want to insult me, show yourself ;)

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