Today would have been my dad’s 75th birthday if he hadn’t died on St. Patrick’s Day. I continue to deal with his death as best I can. Getting knocked for a loop by Ray Bradbury’s death hasn’t made it any easier.
Since my father’s death, I’ve found that many of the things that have stressed me out or upset me seem much less significant now. At the same time, things that I’ve been passionate about but put aside out of anxiety or insecurity seem much more significant and necessary. Bradbury’s death has only increased this. I’m reevaluating my priorities and reassessing what I spend my time and energy on.
And so I’m crawling out of a dark shadow I’ve been living in for a long time. I’m remembering what it was like to trust myself, to have confidence, to have direction. And I can think of no better tribute to my dad and Ray Bradbury than to live intently and intensely, to do things on my terms, to rage against the dying of the light.
3 Comments
Awesome to hear you say that, Josh. :D Death is its own rebirth in a sense (not sure where that came from, but I like it!). Anyway, never stop fighting against the dying of the light. :D
“Death is its own rebirth in a sense” — Nice! Well said, Andrew! And thank you. :)
Thanks! It just popped out of my head. I can, on occasion, be brilliant. :D