"For time will catch us in both hands
To blow away like grains of sand
Ashes to ashes rust to rust
This is what becomes of us"*
Was over at Spitting In A Wishing Well
the other day and joined in on satellite mapping my hometown (Piehole was a little difficult to find). The funny thing about doing that is it's impossible to see any people. Even at maximum zoom, human beings simply don't appear.
My great-uncle died last night. I had taken my mom to see him in the afternoon, and then, after the call came, me, Mom, and Aunt3 returned to sit with his body for a while. It was amazing because, as sick and sedated as he was, once his spirit departed his body looked very different--- like a shell already in the process of disappearing. I began thinking this is what is going to happen to Aunt1, then 3, then to my mom, and then, at some point, to me (hopefully Sis1 and 2 will live longer than I will). We will all disappear, and the people who remember us will disappear too.
Of course there's a part of me that thinks I'm exempt
from all this, that somehow I'll be able to sneak out of line and hide in some time-warp toilet stall. But that part has been getting smaller and smaller lately.
This life we live, the things we think are important, thoughts and feelings, our bodies even--- none of it shows up in the map. And that, I think, means something.
*Annie Lennox "Primitive"