Tears of Love Lost In The Days Gone By

Frailty.

What does that word bring up in your mind? Perhaps you're like me. You see someone old, broken down, barely alive anymore. Or perhaps you see a wilted plant of some sort, clinging to life, about to let the last of its leaves fall. I had an old dog once. She had been in my family for 14 years, and by the end, she was so broken down and decrepit, a far cry from the puppy we had 14 years before. Frail. Weak. Falling apart. Sick.

Whatever comes up, I'm sure it isn't yourself. You probably don't associate the word with yourself in any shape, form, or fashion. I know on a day to day basis I don't. It is a fault of the age I find myself at, to feel that you are invincible. I know I am not, and yet the feeling remains.

But today I have heard many tales of death. Of lives snuffed out before their time, like a candle wick, tossed by an errant breeze, and put out without intention. Three stories I've heard today. Each one was young, around my age or younger. Each one had a significant other who was depending on this person to be with them to walk through life's trials for the rest of their lives. And each died tragically, in a manner that they had no control over, no expectations for. Just like that, they were gone. And whether or not they had religion, whether or not they had money, or plans, or knew how to defend themselves, whether or not they had a clean bill of health, or had kept their bodies pure of influences, they died.

Human beings are so incredibly frail. A small amount of pressure here, a foreign object inserted there, and it's all over. As simple as a distracted driver, or a loose bolt, it could end. Those who seem neurotic and paranoid, afraid of every little thing to the point of insanity, are seemingly the sanest among us. They're right. Just about anything can kill a human. There are cases of people being killed by paper cuts. People falling three feet off a ladder and being paralyzed for life. The simplest introduction of chaos into our systems and we fall apart.

And that's not to mention all the many diseases that cause our bodies to turn on themselves. Those that turn the immune system against the internal organs, the virus that causes a fever so hot the brain can boil, pain so great that the mind can simply break and leave a body empty of anything resembling consciousness. We are a walking time bomb of death. And everything around us is in a hurry to accelerate the process.

And yet somehow, we carry on. We push and we strive and we accomplish great things, in spite of all our weaknesses, in spite of the fact that death surrounds us everywhere. We go out every day, and risk our lives, simply on the basis that we have to make money in order to provide ourselves with entertainment. By rights, we should be locked up in a bomb shelter somewhere, trying not to touch anything sharp. But we strap ourselves into what amounts to 2,000 pound guided missiles powered by explosions every day, drive to buildings that are powered by harnessed lightning and held together with small bits of metal, and do things that deliberately place us in harms way constantly. For what? To simply improve our lives. A normal human would not think of running and hiding in a shelter for their lives, simply because it'd be boring.  Can you imagine that? A species that endangers its existence, simply because it would be a bit dull otherwise. Its ridiculous and beautiful all at the same time.

And, by God, it works. Look at our cities. Look at the monuments to ourselves we have built. More importantly, look at the inventions we have made. We invented a metal case, once again, powered by explosions, that flies, because the guided missiles on the ground didn't get us there fast enough. What sort of creature would dare look up at the sky, in all its infinite glory, and say to themselves, "I want to go there"? We did. And we continue to push our boundaries, no matter the cost or danger. We run into danger, because to do otherwise would be unthinkable.

To do otherwise, would be inhuman.