We all know the cartoon character that runs off a cliff and keeps running in the air until he looks down and realizes that there’s no ground under his feet. Then he plummets to earth. He always survives these setbacks, however, and goes on to other adventures.
Like the character running in the air, those who’ve experienced a life-altering event sometimes need time before their situation sinks in. Women who’ve been raped sometimes fail to report the crime immediately because in their shock they fail to realize the gravity of what’s happened to them. The Rutgers student whose tryst with another man had been shown on the web committed suicide only several days after this violation of his privacy.
My wife and I were running in the air for the first few days after my doctor told me that my prostate cancer had metastasized to my bones. We continued with our ordinary tasks, we went to the movies, we saw friends. But by the third day, the gravity of the diagnosis sunk in, and for both of us the world no longer looked the same.
Ever since seeing the revival of Our Town last summer, when I heard Emily Webb ask the Stage Manager if anyone really appreciates the value of being alive, appreciates "every, every minute," I've been writing about the brevity of life for a man my age and the importance of experiencing to the fullest the time that is left. I meant what I wrote, but it was all a bit academic to me. I didn't feel what I was saying as deeply as I do now, when the days that are left are much more limited than I had supposed and the end game likely to more painful and debilitating than I had imagined.
So this is my last chance to be shot by a jealous husband, for soon I’ll be taking a drug that suppresses the manufacture of testosterone, along with my libido. But let’s just say I’m shot by a jealous husband right now. And when I descend to the afterworld, I’m told that the jealous husband had mistaken me for someone else and that for once justice will reign in the world. I will be sent back to Earth to live a few more years. Were that to happen, I would be thrilled. I would look at each day as a gift. I would value each day. I would appreciate “every, every minute.”
Now that I've stopped running in the air, that's how I look at my life.
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