I used to be one of those kids who could ID what they wanted and make a bee line for it. Tunnel vision- what I wanted I got- sometimes in non kosher ways. But that decisiveness and drive were in me. Somewhere between patterns handed down from parents and surrogate parents, life kicking my ass, and living unconsciously and for and through my ego, I lost them. I always joke that if you hate to see me agonizing over choosing between two jolly rancher flavors, you really don’t want to see what I’d be like buying house. My head is always spinning, always weighing everything in an endless torment of factors and facts, when I should really just be discerning enough to look inside and get my answer. And I say should be, because inside all of us there is that spiritual self- that along with body, emotion and intellect- is the wisest part of us and it has all the answers, the answers that our past traumas don’t let us trust. I don't trust myself.
For all of the previously stated, to me, people who can intuitively skip the bullshit and not only know what they want but take immediate steps toward execution, are a bit of a rare miracle. We mostly live in transference and ambivalence, sometimes not even our thoughts are our own. All these rule books, written and unwritten, the shoulds and should nots. How freeing it must be to inherently know to follow your heart. To say no timid yeses , to have our no’s not be tepid no’s. To have the greatness to take bold steps and then not look back or retreat. To say FUCK, YES and ABSOLUTELY NOT. And mean it, and stand by it.
I lost my father when I was twelve, and at that juncture of an impressionable age I happened to have the fortune to have befriended a girl who was an only child. She became one of my closest friends throughout what have now been three decades. I was that kid her parents invited over all the time, on weekend getaways and even family vacations. So close was my relationship with her parents that in our twenties their daughter and I got in a fight over a boy and I threatened to them to not go on the trip. I told on her, she told on me. Typical family dynamics between siblings.They mediated, we made up, and we all went to Cancun together. Years later I was a bridesmaid at her and that boy’s wedding. That man who treated me like a second daughter gave her away.
My memories of him include the one where he gave me my first job out of high school which consisted of making a report of the closing of the Coffee Sugar and Cocoa Exchange and sending it out, via fax, (ha!) to the major coffee growers in El Salvador. He also was the first person to ever fire me. Maybe because instead of doing the report I ate sandwiches with his daughter in her room. What I remember working with him is that day in day out I was both intimidated and mesmerized by this man, this force, that took over , loud, assertive, busy, determined, authoritative, dynamic. I never saw him blink or fret. Regardless of what he was pursuing he always went for it-he never half assed a thing. If he ever had doubts, self or otherwise, it was never apparent.
Last week his life was taken from him, brutally, cowardly. There will most likely be chatter about the circumstances, speculation. Big small talk for those who have nothing better to do. It’s just too easy for people to weigh in and judge. It’s easy to condemn. You see, pointing out that the neighbor needs to clean up his yard is easy, even when our own yard is in front of you in desperate need to be worked on. Destroying things is easy. It’s easy to ruin a reputation or break a heart. You know what’s admirable? to repair. Because it takes the very best disposition in us to repair broken things, things that aren’t whole or even useful. It’s hard work, it takes thought, and time and focusing and empathy. The bad in us comes to the surface readily, almost automatically. The good has to be pulled from depths of our soul that we are not used to tapping into.
I have the leisure to be sitting at home doing one of the things that I enjoy the most because my boss-, for reasons that I completely understand- would not allow me to be absent for the two days I needed to travel for the funeral. I went into his office knowing that I’d probably come out of it with no job to come back to. I was right. I had to choose- take the two days, pay my respects, kiss my lifelong friend or get a paycheck. I, unlike Don Marcos, have spent the last shitty year in painful ambivalence- weighing in on my life, my marriage, my opportunities and my choices. I’ve been to more therapy than I ever thought a person would need in a lifetime. But as I stood there there was no ambivalence, and the best way to pay my respects to that man who was kind to me and generous beyond what most people reading about him in a newspaper will ever know is to have calmly looked around and made my choice. No weighing and backtracking. Clear as day. A paycheck over sentiment? (and here I can hear his voice) ABSOLUTELY NOT.
May you rest in eternal peace - and thank you,thank you, thank you.
