Art and Zuki

When in the scheme of “Life’s rich pageant” sometimes it’s difficult to understand why things happen and what we’re supposed to take from it.  Some would say, “Don’t worry about it—“what’s to be will be.”  Others would seek to find deep meaningful signs, while still others pass it off as indigestion!  With my father passing this week I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but have only managed to pose more questions.

I’ve decided to let sleeping dogs lie as it were and revel in the many pleasant memories of Ol’ Dad.  They far outweigh the few negative memories I seemed to focus on not taking into consideration he was also a human being subject to the same frailties we all are.  Few if any, leave this world unscarred. I thought about doing a fully detailed posting of my family’s collective memories, but thought better of it as death is and should remain a very personal “passage” into the next phase of L.R.P. whatever it may be. Having said this though, I don’t know if it’s possible to be completely unaffected by these things.  Somewhere along the way the emotional drama followed by inner peace and calm runs the gambit of multiple actualizations; not all of them good.

Outside of Margo, death still remains a mystery to a great many of us.  This is no doubt why there’s a zillion belief systems floating around adding hundreds more with each passing generation.  I really don’t know how it all works after the last breath is taken, and have come to the point in my remaining days on this rock where I envy those that are convinced they’ve solved the mystery.  You can spin it any way you like, but it’s “one less thing.”

Dad’s funeral will be this coming Thursday.  I plan to return to Denver on Friday.  From that point forward there’ll be a small void in my life to compensate for. I know I’m not the first person to lose a parent and now share that experience with countless others.  I think the difference is what one takes from it.  Some become forever embittered, some don’t care, while others never get over it; depressed beyond help.

The crucible of this experience burns away the bullshit, leaving one’s perceptions naked, exposed for all to see. My Father was a good and decent man, and don’t remember a single act of hypocrisy from him.  He has set the bar for me and my family pretty damn high. I’d consider my life a success if I got close enough to touch it.


  • Margo

    Zuki no amount of words can relieve your pain. Just know your father is bathed in the light of angels who will care for him then guide him to our savior. I love this poem:

    “Their faces were living flame; their wings were gold; and for the rest their white was so intense, no snow can match the white they showed…from rank to rank, they shared that peace and ardor which they gained, with wings that fanned their sides.” Dante Alighieriber Paradiso

    • zuki

      Margo, I suspected you might come out of hiding on this one. First of all thank you for your good intentions. However, I wanted you to know I interviewed at least 25 people and not one of them saw an angel. Nothing has showed up on a photo or video, nor has anyone claimed responsibility. What did happen though, is a laugh fest recalling the Ol’ Man’s propensity for mis-adventure. We had the 87 people in attendance rolling in the isles!