Two years ago today, I watched a man drown in the Yuba River. And, as we did last year, Eric and I are going back to the spot this afternoon. It’s been on my mind and in my heart to write something up about Ray, or perhaps about what I’ve learned over the last 730 days. Something.
I wrote this: Life and Water, on the day that he died. And this: The Heartless, a few months ago. Those pieces sort of just flowed out of me without my even paying attention. But when I intentionally sit down now to give words and meaning to that death, I find myself perplexed. Nothing comes out right. I’ve written, erased, and started over on this at least four times. Last year was the same way. My thoughts and feelings about life and death have changed from a simple, straight line into a tangled knot. I can still carry it around. But I can’t give it any order, or make anyone else to see its sense. And that’s alright, I suppose. It will have to be. Maybe in a year from now, I’ll be able to explain. At least until then, I can say that the conclusion I reached two years ago still holds true: Life is short and unpredictable. Let’s live it well, and be ready for when it ends.
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. – John 3:17-18