When I was small I had two goldfish. One was orange and the other was black. They both had lacy billowing translucent fins.They looked like Cleo in Pinocchio. At night when you first got into bed , the light next to the bed was still on and spotlighted the dance of the goldfish. It made you feel cozy and relaxed to watch them. Of course I could never resist giving them more food. They always looked so hungry when they darted up to the surface to catch the morsels of food. That was how you first learned about death. Only rich kids had real aquariums with oxygen pumps. The rest of us just had a globe shaped bowl, with a ceramic castle and a piece of some kind of green plant life that was supposed to give the fish oxygen. I had gone through quite a few fish before these two fancy ones. Usually, you would wake up in the morning and find them floating belly up in the bowl. When resuscitation failed, you would place the fish in a small cardboard jewelery box, on the piece of fluffy cotton and then bury it in the pet cemetery at the back of your yard.It is hard to believe that there is actually a time in your life when you have no knowledge of death. Like Adam and Eve in paradise, there is no death. And then one day you’re struck with the news that you’re not here forever. Your parents are not here forever. Your cat, your dog, your friends, everyone on earth is here for a limited run. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re faced with the unanswerable question of what happens after you die. Was there just a black void of nothingness? Was there really a heaven where you would see everyone that you had lost? After you got over the shock and depression, your mind had to find a way to cope with this on a day to day level. I was young. I didn’t even need to think about death for at least another seventy-five years. I became like Scarlett O’Hara, “I won’t think about that today. If I do I’ll go mad. I’ll think about that tomorrow.”When I got a little older there were new fears to worry about. After reading Poe’s “Premature Burial” I began to fear that I would be buried alive. What if I went into a coma, or became a narcoleptic and wound up in a coffin while I was still alive. I stopped worrying about that when I was told that I would be embalmed first.Then I found out that the Sun had a definite lifespan. Someday it would burn out and Super Nova leaving us in a rather precarious position. We’d either be engulfed in flames or freeze to death. One more fear to be filed away.When you get older you worry about more mundane causes of death. A bad headache might be a sign of a stroke, or a mole that you’ve had all your life might become a malignant melanoma, or any one of a dozen pains might be cancer. And you have to worry about all those asteroids and meteors flying by earth on a daily basis and just barely missing us. And lets not forget the damn Mayans and their stinking calender!If only I had not overfed my goldfish.
Barbara, that’s so poignant and rings true at least in my life. Thank you. I have kids 11, 8 and 6 and we’ve been through the goldfish, mice etc. We have a et cemetary in back. I saw a sick bird the other day on our property and instantly thought – Oh no we can’t fit any more in the cemetary.
ourjrnyabout 3 years ago
The depth of your imagination is wonderously fascinating. Your words ring true Barbara. I always enjoy reading your fascinating prose!
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Barbara, that’s so poignant and rings true at least in my life. Thank you. I have kids 11, 8 and 6 and we’ve been through the goldfish, mice etc. We have a et cemetary in back. I saw a sick bird the other day on our property and instantly thought – Oh no we can’t fit any more in the cemetary.
The depth of your imagination is wonderously fascinating. Your words ring true Barbara. I always enjoy reading your fascinating prose!