Leaving, by Will Stanton / A Memorial

[This is the last posting submitted by Will Stanton.  He passed into history and memories on 1 January 2017.  He is missed. — Editor] 

Leaving

He was diagnosed with lung cancer in 1991.  We knew the inevitable end; we just did not know when.  Each passing day, each passing year, was, in its own way, leaving.  We both understood that.  Some acquaintances told me, “Why don't you leave him?”  I would not, not that way.  I stayed.

I did not cry as a child.  My mother told me that, and we both pondered my difference from other children.  Of course, I felt emotion, but nothing seemed to drive me to tears.  That changed later.  A special someone came into my life who truly mattered - - - and then left.  It was the leaving that changed me.  As the famous 19^th-century, authoress George Eliot stated,  “Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.”

I always have been sensitive to others, perhaps unusually empathetic and caring.  That increased significantly after his leaving, both with people whom I knew, and also even fictional characters in movies.  If, in viewing well presented stories,  I become particularly attached to characters who have deep bonds with each other, I apparently identify with them, at least subconsciously; for, if they part from each other, either in having to leave or, perhaps, in dying, emotion wells up within me.  Such deep emotion comes suddenly and unbidden.  When a good person dies, leaving the loved-ones behind, the emotion catches within my gut.  When loving, deeply bonded people part ways, never to see each other again, that, too, deeply moves me.  Again, quoting George Eliot: “In every parting, there is an image of death.”

I admit it: I never have come fully to terms with reality, with mortality.  And, I'm not like so many who choose to hold deep-seated beliefs that this world is merely a stepping-stone to a so-called “better world,” beliefs based upon common indoctrination and, perhaps, upon fear and hope,  Oh, I don't mind so much the afflictions and death of inhuman humans, those whose cruelty and dire deeds harm others.  But, it is the good people, the loving people, people who have contributed so much to the betterment of humankind, whose leaving distresses me.  I would be so much more content if they (dare I say, “we”?) did not have to leave.

I understand and feel the passionate, poetic lines of Dylan Thomas:

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

So, with these thoughts of mine being presented close to All Souls Day (or in German, “Allerseelen”), with the cold days of December soon upon us, I prefer my thoughts to dwell, instead, upon our happier memories of May, our younger days, as expressed in the final lines of Hermann von Gilm poem, “Allerseelen”, “--- Spend on my heart again those lovely hours, like once in May.”

© 23 July 2016 

About the Author 

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories.  I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.