Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The Ocean Shore Is Timeless

Only Ignorant People Need A Map, A Thermometer, Or A Barometer

Well, we had yet another neighbor die this past week--a really nice articulate young fellow (mid 60’s?) named William-and I missed his passing by a few days because I was trying to stay out of the way of his and his family‘s business.

I spoke to him briefly less than two weeks ago to ask if he wanted me to call anybody or do anything as he was hauled solo out the door of his condo on his way to the ambulance and on to the hospital, but I have to admit that I was really afraid that he would not make it alive to Christmas...having openly mentioned holding that opinion since this past Spring.

It turns out that I was right.

Bill died of Cancer.

Just Damn.

His sister told me of his demise a few days ago, and at first I felt bad because I hadn’t inquired about his status and done something else (other than nothing) earlier, then I realized that I couldn’t have done anything except make him sit up in his deathbed to talk on the telephone or straighten his hospital gown when I walked in the door.

I’m starting to see a trend here, and I'm afraid that I might actualy be leading the charge myself.

Remember that over seventy percent of our planet is covered with water?

Most, if not all, of the animals that aren’t actually living IN the water are spending most of their existence ensuring that they can attain access to water, and when it‘s time to move on to the next plain of being, it seems to me that we all seek to move back to the place where we all originated--the ocean.

Some of us like my friends in Connecticut will accept the colder waters of the north Atlantic while I elect to move ever farther south along the Georgia and Florida shores, but regardless the nautical sounds and temperate climate provides an environment I find ever so soothing to the savage beast within me.

Bill apparently also knew this fact, and thus like me and many, many others before us, he elected to stay here at the end of his life on St. Simons Island.

And thereby, he made a very graceful exodus from his mortal existence…

RIP Mr. Walther

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