December 7, 2012
Again I am drawn to think and feel about themes I thought were long resolved and over-meditated (if there is a word like that). But the movement of the soul has thought otherwise.
Dialectics have fascinated me all my adult life, and in many ways that could be a thumbnail of what life is for me— a creative balance and interplay of opposites. Artistically in recent years this has revealed itself to me in, of all things, the color gradient or its black and white counterpart, the grayscale gradient. Other examples of it are most common in how we as humans think and feel. For every “beginning” there is an “end.” For every “presence”, an “absence.”
A week ago I found out a Padua classmate, John Ambrosone, was tragically killed in a car accident. I was literally speechless and floored when I found this out. I’m still at a point trying to understand why a great person’s life was senselessly ended.
I first met John since graduating Padua in 1965 for the Padua Reunion of 2003. John did not appear to have changed at all. It was incredible since his presence transported me back in time and I truly felt younger and became a teenager again. The last time we met was in 2005 with other classmates from my graduating class. John and I had communicated via email on and off over the years, and he was a real fan of the alumni goings-on, knowing quite a bit about what happened to all alumni since they left Padua. John was quite supportive when the Padua website went up as well as in offering his assistance in doing things.
I’m trying to understand the real void that is felt within, knowing John will never be in my life again. The mind can more or less accept this but as we all know the soul is far more than mind, having its own rhythm and reasons.
In my first inaugural posting to this blog, An Unexpected Journey, I debated about revealing the two operations I’ve had over the years. My first impulse was not to—to keep it hidden as Clark Kent kept Superman hidden. But some unspoken force seemed to compel me to do otherwise. There had to be more than illness that I went through. There had to be its opposite, its dialectic somewhere. The easy answer for me was its dialectic was in how I adjusted to life. I could not hide something that was me. Sharing and making illness part of the natural flow somehow seemed to be wholesome (not a very common word these days). I wish to thank all for their wishes of health.
This absence I’m feeling compelled to resolve with John’s death may not be what is best at least for my soul. Maybe I will have to live with it a while longer. I know in so many ways John continues to live within my thoughts and feelings.