Mark Turner dot Net

The Friday before last I drove to work in the midst of drivers acting like idiots. It inspired me to wonder how the Dalai Lama might treat the idiots in traffic, if he would be as tempted as I am sometimes to show them the error of their ways. It falls into my general deep philosophical thinking that we’re all on the planet to teach and help each other: we can all be angels to someone.

I posted my thought and then went about my way, thinking that was the end of it.

Then on Thursday, a close friend died after a traffic accident on that very same highway. As I again drove by the scene of that horrific accident, I was startled to have a thought pop into my head:
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Yes, I actually posted that last post at 3:13 AM this morning. It was another night like Monday night, where my sense of shock and grief kept sleep at bay. Still, when the alarm clock sounded I managed to put my feet on the floor in the morning, for which I am always thankful.

It was my toughest day so far in dealing with the loss of Gerry. Up until now there has been plenty for me to do to create something positive for Gerry and his family but now that he’s gone the emotion my activities have been (mostly) keeping in check are now coming forth. On my way to work I teared up again when I saw a state trooper and wondered if he might have been at the scene of Gerry’s wreck. Then later this morning I had to stop reading Gerry’s guestbook because I became too emotional. I also got weepy thinking of all the missed opportunities for future fun together, and that from this point on our lives would be forever out of sync.
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I didn’t sleep very well last night. Nor did Kelly. Nor did Gerry’s family nor the hundreds of friends that knew him. I couldn’t stop thinking how quickly things happened. In the blink of an eye my friend went from a happy, healthy life to tragedy. It is the dream I can’t wake up from.

I was feeling pretty glum today about his status. Several of my coworkers came by to ask me about him and express their sympathy. I appreciated that but I stayed in a funk all day. It wasn’t until I spoke with Kelly around 11 that I gently began to feel better. That’s when she mentioned that Gerry’s gag reflex had returned. It’s such a simple thing, a grain of good news next to a mountain of bad, but it provided me a glimmer of hope.

I’m not fooling myself into thinking that it Gerry’s prognosis is anything but grim. It will take nothing short of a miracle to heal Gerry, an honest to God miracle. But miracles do happen. All the time.

We’re not privy to the script in life’s play. None of us know when we’ll play our last scene, or how the play will end. We just play our roles and pine for the time when we can once again join our fellow actors backstage. And I look forward to kicking Gerry’s ass someday for putting us through this, here or elsewhere!