envy
Noun or verb, envy hasn't been a common emotion in my life. Not trying to put a positive spin on myself here, but in the context of this little story in which envy plays a pivotal role the reader should know that I'm not going around feeling envy toward everyone in my life who I perceive to have something better than me. Those feelings have been rare enough to give at least personal significance, even trepidation to the incidents outlined below.
In the fall of seventy-something, year before my son Max who turned forty-three this summer was born, I went on a cross-country road trip with my parents. The story of that trip is on the list of things I intend to write, but for now, I'll just say that we were traveling in two cars and traded off riding along with two in one car and the other driving alone, two-hour shifts. During one of the times when I was driving and dad riding shotgun he got to musing about his life, confided he could look out over the congregation from his Sunday preacher's pulpit and see who was going to be next to die. Never failed. Up to about a six month lead time, regardless of age or physical condition of the person so identified. Wasn't there a Twilight Zone episode in which the protagonist has that curse. Last scene he got into a jeep, caught a glimpse of his image in the mirror and saw the glow of death on his own visage - or did I make that up?
Dad's predictive ability started with his brother Paul, who passed at age twelve, a spider bite that went septic. Can't remember if dad wished the death of his brother after some sibling dustup, or if the premonition came out of the blue. Nevertheless, and confirmation bias be damned, dad held the notion in his head the rest of his career. Being a pastor, he buried more bodies than a dog buries bones, so he had lots of examples of the gift/curse from which to draw his conclusions.
So now I'm wondering if some of the old man's juju hasn't settled in my head. In the Twilight Zone story, the curse of prediction was shown to the viewer as the victim's face lighting up for an instant, dad said he just knew without any physical manifestation, for me, it seems to be associated with feeling envy. Started the day a guy in our circle who had come down with rapid onset ALS who had stuck it out in active life to the very end came around to shake everyone's hand, say goodbye as best he could with the limited speech left in on his tongue. Not a dry eye in the room that day. Scolded myself when I looked across to see him wishing a final farewell to a woman for whom I have felt unrequited burning passion for fifteen years and saw her give him a special hug, both arms around his neck - envied him for getting the hug I'll never receive. Joked with myself later about the extent that carnal passions that could cause me to feel envy a guy who I knew would be laying cold in his grave ten days later.
Then another incident happened in which a woman in our circle suddenly passed at a young age. Sad story really, she lived alone and her body lay where she dropped in her apartment for some number of days before anyone found her, and we all still feel really creepy about the whole thing. Cause of death never filtered through the rumor mill of the extended family type social circle we live in and it doesn't matter now anyway.
Never close to this woman, often went months at a time without even seeing her and didn't speak with her more than an occasional exchange of pleasantries, but I always had a feeling of envy toward her lifestyle. Single, living in her own place without depending on anyone and no one depending on her, come and go as she pleased. The manner of her passing certainly gave me pause at one of the downsides of living alone, collapsing on the kitchen floor to die alone, especially if one considers the possibility that timely medical intervention may well have given her another thirty years of life. Nevertheless, the times in my life when I lived on my own are characterized in the admittedly rose-colored glass of hindsight have been the happiest, and it feels creepy to have felt envy for someone who subsequently went to an early grave.
Word came down this past Sunday of another untimely death. Already expressed my feelings about Rich here a few months ago, his brother told MJ that he passed on his birthday this past January. Six months and more in the grave and the knowledge that he was on a one way trip the last time I saw him didn't soften the blow. Raise a glass of Elysian Space Dust, Waylan and Willey and Marti Robbins priming the tear ducts alone in my room in memorial gave some closure to the original story. Never forget the death in his eyes the last time we spoke.
So now it's three. Or is there more? Memory is too malleable for a guy to draw conclusions, but two more early deaths in my experience fit the same pattern. Almost enough for me to worry about the wellbeing of two or three people in my life for whom I have a twinge of that same sort of envy -- not yet crazy enough to think it's my feelings that contribute to the tragedies, but one wonders about the predictive aspect of the feelings?
Can't be anything to it more than just another one of my bullshit stories -- can it?
****************************************
Confirmation bias: I used to think I had the gift/curse of foresight to predict auto accidents when a strong premonition of a crash while helping some friends load up to drive home after spending the weekend at our place. Half hour after leaving I got a call, they had rolled over on a patch of ice just outside town. Years later I realized that every single time I helped someone load up for a trip, or started out myself the same premonition of a crash clouded part of my head. Probably because of this incident. But, at least for the purpose of this story, I am going to maintain that the rare envious feelings toward the lives of these departed loved ones represent a whole different kettle of fish.
In the fall of seventy-something, year before my son Max who turned forty-three this summer was born, I went on a cross-country road trip with my parents. The story of that trip is on the list of things I intend to write, but for now, I'll just say that we were traveling in two cars and traded off riding along with two in one car and the other driving alone, two-hour shifts. During one of the times when I was driving and dad riding shotgun he got to musing about his life, confided he could look out over the congregation from his Sunday preacher's pulpit and see who was going to be next to die. Never failed. Up to about a six month lead time, regardless of age or physical condition of the person so identified. Wasn't there a Twilight Zone episode in which the protagonist has that curse. Last scene he got into a jeep, caught a glimpse of his image in the mirror and saw the glow of death on his own visage - or did I make that up?
Dad's predictive ability started with his brother Paul, who passed at age twelve, a spider bite that went septic. Can't remember if dad wished the death of his brother after some sibling dustup, or if the premonition came out of the blue. Nevertheless, and confirmation bias be damned, dad held the notion in his head the rest of his career. Being a pastor, he buried more bodies than a dog buries bones, so he had lots of examples of the gift/curse from which to draw his conclusions.
So now I'm wondering if some of the old man's juju hasn't settled in my head. In the Twilight Zone story, the curse of prediction was shown to the viewer as the victim's face lighting up for an instant, dad said he just knew without any physical manifestation, for me, it seems to be associated with feeling envy. Started the day a guy in our circle who had come down with rapid onset ALS who had stuck it out in active life to the very end came around to shake everyone's hand, say goodbye as best he could with the limited speech left in on his tongue. Not a dry eye in the room that day. Scolded myself when I looked across to see him wishing a final farewell to a woman for whom I have felt unrequited burning passion for fifteen years and saw her give him a special hug, both arms around his neck - envied him for getting the hug I'll never receive. Joked with myself later about the extent that carnal passions that could cause me to feel envy a guy who I knew would be laying cold in his grave ten days later.
Then another incident happened in which a woman in our circle suddenly passed at a young age. Sad story really, she lived alone and her body lay where she dropped in her apartment for some number of days before anyone found her, and we all still feel really creepy about the whole thing. Cause of death never filtered through the rumor mill of the extended family type social circle we live in and it doesn't matter now anyway.
Never close to this woman, often went months at a time without even seeing her and didn't speak with her more than an occasional exchange of pleasantries, but I always had a feeling of envy toward her lifestyle. Single, living in her own place without depending on anyone and no one depending on her, come and go as she pleased. The manner of her passing certainly gave me pause at one of the downsides of living alone, collapsing on the kitchen floor to die alone, especially if one considers the possibility that timely medical intervention may well have given her another thirty years of life. Nevertheless, the times in my life when I lived on my own are characterized in the admittedly rose-colored glass of hindsight have been the happiest, and it feels creepy to have felt envy for someone who subsequently went to an early grave.
Word came down this past Sunday of another untimely death. Already expressed my feelings about Rich here a few months ago, his brother told MJ that he passed on his birthday this past January. Six months and more in the grave and the knowledge that he was on a one way trip the last time I saw him didn't soften the blow. Raise a glass of Elysian Space Dust, Waylan and Willey and Marti Robbins priming the tear ducts alone in my room in memorial gave some closure to the original story. Never forget the death in his eyes the last time we spoke.
So now it's three. Or is there more? Memory is too malleable for a guy to draw conclusions, but two more early deaths in my experience fit the same pattern. Almost enough for me to worry about the wellbeing of two or three people in my life for whom I have a twinge of that same sort of envy -- not yet crazy enough to think it's my feelings that contribute to the tragedies, but one wonders about the predictive aspect of the feelings?
Can't be anything to it more than just another one of my bullshit stories -- can it?
****************************************
Confirmation bias: I used to think I had the gift/curse of foresight to predict auto accidents when a strong premonition of a crash while helping some friends load up to drive home after spending the weekend at our place. Half hour after leaving I got a call, they had rolled over on a patch of ice just outside town. Years later I realized that every single time I helped someone load up for a trip, or started out myself the same premonition of a crash clouded part of my head. Probably because of this incident. But, at least for the purpose of this story, I am going to maintain that the rare envious feelings toward the lives of these departed loved ones represent a whole different kettle of fish.
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