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"Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.
As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out. Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks."
Foi quando me fizeram um ecocardiograma e pude ver o meu coração fofinho a bater (com uma excelende fração de ejeção, e ainda vi um bocadinho do meu fígado!). Tendo em conta que estamos no final de Dezembro, é um bocado triste ter sido este o meu melhor momento do ano, no entanto, se pensarmos bem no assunto, sem este dia se calhar o meu melhor dia teria sido um em que comi uma merenda mesmo boa ou assim, o que seria ligeiramente mais triste...!
Todas as cartas de amor são
Não seriam cartas de amor se não fossem
Também escrevi em meu tempo cartas de amor,
Como as outras,
As cartas de amor, se há amor,
Têm de ser
Só as criaturas que nunca escreveram
Cartas de amor
É que são
Quem me dera no tempo em que escrevia
Sem dar por isso
Cartas de amor
A verdade é que hoje
As minhas memórias
Dessas cartas de amor
É que são
(Todas as palavras esdrúxulas,
Como os sentimentos esdrúxulos,
Álvaro de Campos, in "Poemas"
Heterónimo de Fernando Pessoa
"Não sei quantas almas tenho.
Cada momento mudei.
Continuamente me estranho.
Nunca me vi nem achei.
De tanto ser, só tenho alma....
Quem tem alma não tem calma.
Quem vê é só o que vê,
Quem sente não é quem é, (...)"
O universo não pode ser infinito, se está a crescer...
Update (cortesia das minhas amigas, M. e M.): O universo não está a crescer, simplesmente a matéria está a afastar-se, as coisas vão ficar mais longe umas das outras, mas o espaço continuará a ser infinito como sempre.
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