Friday, August 07, 2009

Mysteries of Life

The lives of people often entwine inextricably. Take my family, for instance. In 1969, during the first Vietnam-era draft, my lottery number was thirty-eight. My father’s lottery number during the first draft of the World War II era was the same number. Coincidence? Maybe.

My brother, father and myself were all born in Louisiana, my mother in Mississippi. I was twenty-six when I first visited Oklahoma, my brother the same age although he is two years older than I am. My mother was eighty-four before she ever set foot into Oklahoma, my father eighty-six.

My mother died here, two years ago. My father has Alzheimer’s disease, in assisted-living care, and I am almost certain that he will die here. Both my brother’s family and my family now live in Oklahoma and both of us will likely breathe our last breaths in this state.

You are all in the same family, you say. It is logical that you will all die in the same place.

I am not so sure. Life’s mysteries may be no more than coincidence. What statistical analysis do scientists have to prove this? Perhaps we are all actors destined to play many parts opposite the same members of a large cast. Clad in ever-changing costumes, cultural backdrops, different eras and mores, we act out a play cast and directed by some nebulous being.

Reality is only what we perceive, or think we perceive. My father with Alzheimer’s is but a semblance of his former self, but he still functions, eats, sleeps - He still knows my brother and me. His recent memories are gone, but he can remember his childhood and his experiences in the war. Still, what is reality when perception has vanished?

My father is now more like my child. Maybe, once, he was my child. Who really knows? Yes, he is still my father but like so many sons before me, he remains almost a complete mystery. There are many questions I have for him. Now that I am brave enough to ask, all that I get in return is a blank stare.

Yes, some lives entwine inextricably. Of this, I am quite certain. Well, maybe not. In the words of Bob Dylan, “the only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know anything for sure.”

Gondwana

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