Rick told me about some philosophy.
We all die, but for some reason a lot of us like to talk about what might happen afterward. I joke about it, I talk about some ideas – but the real idea of it scares the hell out of me. No pun intended. Rick and Pedro, Zach, Aaron, Juhasz, Julie, Jenn – everyone talks about it at some point or another. We all talk about the whys of life and death, the hows and histories of the maybes.
For some reason we all talked about it. We all talked about what we could do to make our lives better. We didn’t talk about making more money or how someone wanted a mansion to put all their gold in. We wanted to live – to LIVE – and we wanted to live with a purpose in our hearts and a health in our heads.
None of that matters. Not for this.
What matters is what Rick told me.
I don’t remember where he said the philosophy came from. He knew about a million of them. He was the one who told me about where Yahweh came from. He was the one who told me about sinking – rising and falling – for meditation. He was the one who would talk to me about obscure bands (Tomahawk, anyone?). I still get angry at him for being gone. Him and Pete. I hate to admit that I mumble,
“Fuck you. Fuck you for being gone. Fuck you for being free while we are stuck here – still trying. Still struggling. Still fighting. Fuck you, I miss you so much.”
I’m ashamed that I think it and say it so often.
Rick told me that there’s this belief.
When we do, we’re met at the gates in Heaven. They ask three question:
Did you love?
Were you loved?
Would you do it all again – knowing you couldn’t change a thing?
I’m trying, Rick. I’m trying really hard to say yes to all of them.