We Were Born Before the Wind, Who Are We to Understand?

Congratulations to Mr. Dan Carlson for correctly naming "New York, New York" as the Friday Song of the Day. I was also like to commend Dan for his concise history of the tune in his comment. That is the kind of activity that I want the Song of the Day contest to generate. Dan, I salute you.

Disclaimer: This post might come across as a bit morbid. With that said, I'll move on.

Do you know what is one of the most sobering sights that you can see in life? The place where you will be buried one day. I'm not saying this because I think I'm going to die soon but I just know where it is. My mom's family comes from an small East Texas community called Arbala (pronounced R-Bay-la). The cemetery in Arbala is really one of the largest attractions in a community that, to put it kindly, has seen its better days.

The cemetery is located about 4 miles from where my grandmother lives in southern Hopkins County. Sometimes when we visit my grandmother we will go visit the cemetery to see the graves of our ancestors. This is where we buried my Aunt Sandy a few years ago. It is where my grandmother will be buried and it is where my parents will be buried. It is where my body will rest one day.

There are two ways to look at that kind of realization. I could probably approach much like you are as you read this seemingly depression filled essay with a sense of impending doom and bemoan the inevitability of it all. Or I could do something else....

I could take each day as it comes. To follow Mr. Keating and "suck the marrow out of life." We are all going to die. That's a nondebatable, nonnegotiable part of living in this mortal world. The question is what are we going to do with the time that we have been given.