We live less than
the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives
against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life.
There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer
so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye? ~ Chaim Potok
against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life.
There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer
so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye? ~ Chaim Potok
Just how
quick is the blink of an eye? About 300 milliseconds or 1/3 of a second.
And this is the window of time in which a conversation with Myrtle can go
from having some meaning to no meaning at all - the blink of an eye.
She can
observe the rhododendron petals lost to yesterday's heavy rainfall and mention
the chipmunk stealing the birdseed which was scattered to the ground by the
oversized bluejay feeding sloppily just minutes before. In this same
sentence, she wonders aloud if her (long dead) father is selling his house and
why her (long dead) brothers haven't visited. Remarkable powers of
observation coupled with anachronistic impossibilities. In the same
sentence.
When I
listen to Myrtle my mind gets benumbed. The sheer unworkable nature of the
content in her speech and the hairpin turns from sensibility to absurdity -
these overwhelm me. My husband and four kids think that I have
superpowers when it comes to tuning out annoying chatter. They are unanimous in this belief, and
maybe it is true. But it is not so with
Myrtle. It is impossible for me to hear her
speak, without listening; although I try, I cannot filter out the
irrational. And the irrational
fatigues me.
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| A moment of calm after the storm |
Yes, it has
been a hard, hard week.
She had four
consecutive days of mere napping - no real sleep. She spat out her
medications. She spat out the food in which I hid the medications. She
yelled for hours throughout the night for no discernible reason. It was as if she decided to tear at the world
with all her might for as long as she could…. which turned out to be four
days. (This did not feel like the blink
of an eye.) Yesterday, day five of her
protest, she decided to rest and she slept much of the day and night.
“…. a blink of an
eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A
span of life is nothing. But the man who lives that span, he is something.
He can fill that tiny span with meaning, so its quality is immeasurable
though its quantity may be insignificant. Do you understand what I am
saying? A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically
given to life.” ~ Chaim Potok
Well, a lot
can happen in the blink of an eye. A
life can begin or end in that instant. So what about that little span between
the start and finish? It is everything to us, it is right now, and it only
lasts after we are gone if it held meaning.
Myrtle is still filling the little span.
Her milliseconds do not follow any order, now. So what.
Nor do they have pace. Big
deal. She is a special kind of time
traveler, that’s all. I like this
perspective.
She floats
around the milliseconds, living fluidly in the past and the present. Occasionally, she seeks to fill the tiny span
furiously, as though she just remembered that meaning is not automatically
given to life. We must work at it. She is still adding
meaning to her milliseconds. That's all.
She is
recuperating now from the frenzy of this week.
She has earned this temporary rest and she will be worthy and ready for
her final rest when God steps in. She
has done so many things well. She has
done so many things right. She packed meaning into all of the nooks and
crannies of her life and that is the point. This is a thing I cling to with my mind, while
my heart clings to the cross. While my
heart clings to the cross.
It is hard work to
fill one's life with meaning. That I do not think you understand yet. A life
filled with meaning is worthy of rest. I want to be worthy of rest when I am no
longer here. ~ Chaim Potok


Rosemary, so beautifully written. It is brave of you to share your words and bare your soul. -- Joann
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