A friend died. His name was De Andre. He died in July. I didn’t learn about it until now, today, while at work. I’d like to call him a friend - after all, all the times we interacted were pleasant, and he was always very nice to me, and always seemed to have interest in my life; what I was up to, etc. We didn’t interact terribly often though, and obviously, since it took 3 months to notice his death, there was some negligence on my part. I’m sure no one would blame me, and I have been rather busy. But perhaps that’s something to be addressed. How is it that we (I) become so busy that I don’t even notice the people around me, and the things happening in their lives? How it is that I become so busy…I don’t even notice God around me, and God happening in my life?
Might it be possible, that this is exactly the type of thing I ought to be focusing on most? I mean, after all, at the end of a long day, people, and God, are really two most significant items that come into play. Yes, maybe homework, maybe the sports team, maybe band practice, college visits, and SAT scores…but ultimately, all of those things involve people. Otherwise, at least to a small degree, why would we spend our time thinking about them? But perhaps, it’s in the way THAT we thinking about people and God that needs addressing. Sometimes, I get really really focused on getting a task done, so I can “please someone”, that I forget the reason I’m interacting with that person in the first place. In a sense, I sort of take that person for granted. I do an assignment and turn it in so that my teacher will give me a good grade. If that’s my only interest in the class, what am I really saying to that teacher? “I don’t really care much about all the knowledge you have, or your passion(s) for teaching. I only care so much as I gets me through this class, and out of this school.” Perhaps that sounds a little harsh. (I’m not brandishing anybody.) But perhaps think to yourself: “Do I ever ask my teacher about her or his day? Or how he or she got to being a teacher? Why he or she cares about the subject in the first place?”
Once upon a time (about 7 years ago), I came back to Princeton for a visit. I found out that I classmate I had grown up with, Nick Procaccino, had been killed in a car accident. Somehow that memo hadn’t gotten to me until much later. I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time, but had I known, I would have attended his funeral. We went to elementary school together, as well middle school and high school, but were closest in elementary. He was always kind to me, also. And whenever we did talk, it was enjoyable. I don’t have anything bad to say about him. I also found out from the same friend who told me about Nick’s death, that another person I knew from when I was in middle school, had taken his own life. “Willy Machado, I’m gonna miss you, Man.” I thought. Had I known he was struggling so, and had I been around more often (I was living in Missouri then), I might have tried to talk to him. On the other hand, the fact that he’d taken his own life, didn’t really surprise me - even though it saddened me. And my friend, the very friend who was telling me the news about Nick and about Willy, was herself struggling to overcome a heroin addiction. She started using drugs in high school, and started with heroin our Junior year. I knew something was off about her - I had known her since childhood also - but it didn’t dawn on me until much later. She had become moody, and mean, and unpleasant to be around - more than what was her “usual” self. I realize now that in all of these events there’s a common thread: For whatever reason, rarely ever (if that) did I ask any of those people, “How are you these days?” Or, just as importantly, I didn’t ever mention to any of them, “You matter to me”.
Ladies and Gentleman, that is the piece we (I) seem to be missing. The ability to stop what I’m doing long enough, to un-preoccupy myself with the things I do to please myself, and to turn to somebody else, or the person I’m hoping to get something from, and saying “Hey, did you know that you’re important to me? That I respect you, and that I’m grateful for you?” Maybe I get a good grade on this paper, maybe I don’t, but either way, “Professor, thank you for all the work you do. Thank you for showing up each day - on time, ready to go. And thank you for stopping long enough to care about my life also.”
I guess this is all a round-about way of saying, cherish the people in your lives, and remember that life is sacred. Do not disregard it. And those who are in the forefront of your lives, be sure you’re telling them how much they matter to you, and be kind to them.
Lovingly,
Ben
Written in early September 2013.
Might it be possible, that this is exactly the type of thing I ought to be focusing on most? I mean, after all, at the end of a long day, people, and God, are really two most significant items that come into play. Yes, maybe homework, maybe the sports team, maybe band practice, college visits, and SAT scores…but ultimately, all of those things involve people. Otherwise, at least to a small degree, why would we spend our time thinking about them? But perhaps, it’s in the way THAT we thinking about people and God that needs addressing. Sometimes, I get really really focused on getting a task done, so I can “please someone”, that I forget the reason I’m interacting with that person in the first place. In a sense, I sort of take that person for granted. I do an assignment and turn it in so that my teacher will give me a good grade. If that’s my only interest in the class, what am I really saying to that teacher? “I don’t really care much about all the knowledge you have, or your passion(s) for teaching. I only care so much as I gets me through this class, and out of this school.” Perhaps that sounds a little harsh. (I’m not brandishing anybody.) But perhaps think to yourself: “Do I ever ask my teacher about her or his day? Or how he or she got to being a teacher? Why he or she cares about the subject in the first place?”
Once upon a time (about 7 years ago), I came back to Princeton for a visit. I found out that I classmate I had grown up with, Nick Procaccino, had been killed in a car accident. Somehow that memo hadn’t gotten to me until much later. I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time, but had I known, I would have attended his funeral. We went to elementary school together, as well middle school and high school, but were closest in elementary. He was always kind to me, also. And whenever we did talk, it was enjoyable. I don’t have anything bad to say about him. I also found out from the same friend who told me about Nick’s death, that another person I knew from when I was in middle school, had taken his own life. “Willy Machado, I’m gonna miss you, Man.” I thought. Had I known he was struggling so, and had I been around more often (I was living in Missouri then), I might have tried to talk to him. On the other hand, the fact that he’d taken his own life, didn’t really surprise me - even though it saddened me. And my friend, the very friend who was telling me the news about Nick and about Willy, was herself struggling to overcome a heroin addiction. She started using drugs in high school, and started with heroin our Junior year. I knew something was off about her - I had known her since childhood also - but it didn’t dawn on me until much later. She had become moody, and mean, and unpleasant to be around - more than what was her “usual” self. I realize now that in all of these events there’s a common thread: For whatever reason, rarely ever (if that) did I ask any of those people, “How are you these days?” Or, just as importantly, I didn’t ever mention to any of them, “You matter to me”.
Ladies and Gentleman, that is the piece we (I) seem to be missing. The ability to stop what I’m doing long enough, to un-preoccupy myself with the things I do to please myself, and to turn to somebody else, or the person I’m hoping to get something from, and saying “Hey, did you know that you’re important to me? That I respect you, and that I’m grateful for you?” Maybe I get a good grade on this paper, maybe I don’t, but either way, “Professor, thank you for all the work you do. Thank you for showing up each day - on time, ready to go. And thank you for stopping long enough to care about my life also.”
I guess this is all a round-about way of saying, cherish the people in your lives, and remember that life is sacred. Do not disregard it. And those who are in the forefront of your lives, be sure you’re telling them how much they matter to you, and be kind to them.
Lovingly,
Ben
Written in early September 2013.