Monday, October 18, 2010

Don't Buy Green Bananas

I'm sure you're wondering why I've not posted a review in over a week, especially if you regularly read my column.  Well, it's because of a terribly tragic event in my life: my father, at the far too young age of 65, died on October 8th.  He had a sudden, fatal heart attack and was no more.


My father was the kindest, most generous man I have ever known.  He was not just generous monetarily, he was generous with his time and his spirit.  He was loved by everyone who had ever met him, and his passing marks the end of an age, at least in my mind.  He will be sorely missed by a great many people.


When things like this happen, people tend to look introspectively, to try to make sense of it all, to do what they can to come to terms. All I can say is that I'll never buy green bananas again, because at the end of the day, you may not be around to eat them when they're ripe.  This tenet may, and likely should, be applied to every facet of your life in order to remove such things as regret and remorse for what was unsaid in life.  If you tell your kid you're going to take her to a movie, "someday", do it now.  Call a loved one and tell her what you've been putting off saying for years. Call your more distant relatives such as aunts and uncles.  Take pictures like hard disk space is limitless. Go skydiving. 


In short, don't put off until tomorrow what you should do today, and don't let cowardice,  fear, or the illusion that you'll have time at a later date temper what you'd wish to do.  There will come a time that you'll regret not doing whatever it is because it will eventually come to pass that you're too late, and that's a terrible, profoundly saddening feeling. Me, I just wish I'd have seen him more recently and been able to tell him how very much he meant to me, and although I spoke to him very often, it's different seeing someone in person.  To see the lighting up of one's eyes when you share your expression of love, admiration, or thanks may be the single most incredibly joyful gift that God ever passed to man.

2 comments:

Kevin E. Schlabach said...

I'm sorry for your loss.

This is one of the reasons I play games. I want to insure my life is speckled with fun moments where I interact with other people instead of just a serious run of career moves and responsibilities.

KateAllen said...

Peter, lovely tribute to your Dad. We loved him so.