Mrs. Teabody Laments a Passing Youth

This has been an unkind year. When I pause and allow myself to think that I will never again see the bright smiles or hear the wise and funny words or just sit in the company of so many people who have enriched my life and the lives of those around them in little ways, in big ways, I feel a loss I cannot begin to explain. Some of these lost friends have led long, happy, productive, influential lives; some have been cut down at the peak of their power when their due was at least another three or four decades; these friends have lived. They have known the range of life's ups and downs, its pain and pleasure, its triumphs and disappointments. I mourn them all. In the wake of their passing, we are heartbroken widows and widowers; we are bereaved grandchildren; we are uncomprehending children; we are devastated brothers and sisters. Our lives, our worlds are diminished by their loss.

And that brings me, this sobbing senior citizen on this bright May morning, to the hardest loss to bear of all: Jordan. He was one of the kids I knew I could count on to grow up and quietly improve the world around him: beloved by his family, adored by his friends, respected by his teachers. A kid with more talent in his pinky than most folks have in their bodies. An absolute gem of a human being. Truly. Don't fool yourself for one second thinking his life was in vain; it wasn't. Because the loss of Jordan has inspired me to ask what we need to do to keep all the Jordans we know alive and well and living out the natural course of life. What can we do?

If you are a young person reading this, I want you to know that life IS worth living. That is not to say that life is easy; it isn't. But it does get easier as you get older because you gain a perspective. Life is definitely a journey, an unfamiliar but do-able journey. Think of how you felt the first time that you drove to a different place; you felt somewhat lost and a little out of your element but with each successive trip, your confidence grew. With each new journey, the drive became less intimidating because not only did you know the route, you now recognized the landmarks; you anticipated the places where traffic was the heaviest; you learned the areas where you would encounter the worst drivers; you knew the places where you could stop for reasonable and reliable sustenance.You learned who was a good traveling companion and who was not. And you also learned another really valuable lesson. You learned to enjoy the journey and make it work for you. This  realization about the ins and outs of the journey does not happen overnight; it takes time. You MUST give yourself ENOUGH time. Twenty years is not enough time. Thirty years is not enough time. Forty years is not enough time. If you get lost, and you sometimes will, you need to stop and ask directions. That's what we older folks are good for. That's what we can help you with. Because we have made the journey and we know the way is rough and hard and uncompromising by times. We know that you will come up against obstacles in the road that you think you absolutely cannot surmount. Don't you believe it. You might have to call for some help but your call won't go unanswered. Your journey is what you make it but you are never alone. I am here. Lots of folks just like me are here. We love you. We cannot lose you.  Think of us as your roadside service when you take your next journey. Your call will be answered because we desperately need you in this world.  And we'll do anything to help you find your way.