Man, there is just so much absurdity in the world. An hour ago I was laughing and now I am weeping; tomorrow I’ll laugh again. I’m petting my cats now even though two nights ago I chased Ralph around the house murderously with a squirt bottle and a baseball bat (if he acts up again tonight, I’m going to throw the little bastard to the wolves). And here I am posting my cousin’s suicide note and it’s going to share space on my blog with a picture of a cat wearing reindeer antlers. Bizarre.
My cousin (BJ, shortened form of Bjorn, Old Norse for The Bear) is not dead. He’s just decided that he’s going to go off his medications on New Year’s Day. On the same day everyone else quits drinking and smoking and vows to exercise or take of yoga or feng shui, he is going to begin to, as he puts it, “let [his] body deteriorate away instead of holding out false hope that things will ever change.” He laid out the details of what he’s facing in an email with the Subject Line, appropriately enough, of “My Name is Inigo Montoya.” I realize now how blurred together his grief and his sense of humor have been in his last umpteen emails, facing this.
I am unsure as to how long it will take for my body to completely succumb to what it has been given, but I am certain that I don’t want it to last long …For the first time in the past two years my mind has been able to settle down and not worry about doctors, my blood counts, sterile food, waking up in a hospital… I can finally concentrate on the important things like what happened to the Huskies defense this season, Ginger or MaryAnne, and is there a candy bar better than Snickers?
Of course, what he’s contemplating isn’t really suicide. I used that word incorrectly. He’s saving himself. It’s so weird how the weights of mortality and pain reverse everything, pull everything out of skew, making death a release and continued existence unbearable.
It grieves me deeply that I haven’t spoken to BJ more than a handful of times over the past 13 or 14 years. I made some choices that opened a gap between us, and then time just kept flowing, and flowing, and flowing until — here we are. I can’t believe this has happened to fast to someone so young, no cancel buttons, no recourses, no insurance policies, no technological solutions. Time is so short and so incredibly valuable.
Now I am living a life free of worries, granted it is not an open ended life, but I will take what I have. Speed limits are now speed suggestions, I can eat as much bacon and ice cream as I want and not think about the calories or fat, if i don’t floss often enough who cares? That’s right, a true life on the edge. Keep your daughters away, I am dangerous.
I’m sure I’ll draw all sort of sage philosophical conclusions from this later. But they’ll probably be unsound because, let’s face it, most foolproof philosophies are pretty hosed. Later I’ll be detached and accepting and at peace. Right now I’m going to dance insanely and shake my fists and laugh with surprise at how brave BJ is through all of this and curse quite, quite profanely at how ridiculously unfair it all is. And then, tomorrow evening, I will post some more pictures of cats with odd headwear — hopefully, my cats wearing odd hats — and then time will flow, and flow, and flow.
Live hard, BJ. And I will help you with the bacon.
