atque in perpetuum, frāter, avē atque valē.

I randomly took a pop to read some posts on OW and read about the death of a frequent poster, Maj. Andrew Olmsted (USA).

I'm just feeling shocked and numbed. I never dealt with him directly but did read many of his postings and this one just hit me hard. It was a post he had send to someone to post in the event of his death. He said many good things and it just slammed me when it reached the part when he said goodbye to his wife.

Part of his final requests were to not politicize his death so out of respect I will refrain from the comments I have uttered before when I have lost friends in Iraq. But I will end this with a comment someone left (The translation only is posted) as they are the most fitting words that come to mind.

Carried across many nations and many seas,
I arrive, Brother, at these miserable funeral rites,
So that I might bestow you with the final gift of death
And might speak in vain to the silent ash.
Because Fortune has stolen you yourself from me,
Ah, unhappy brother stolen wrongly from me,
Nevertheless, however, receive now these which in the ancient custom
Of our parents were handed down as a sad gift for funeral rites,
these flowing with much brotherly weeping,
And forever, Brother, hail and farewell.

Don't Bother Asking for Cures or an Answer...

...God is the one who gave you the Cancer...

Well It's now been over a year sans cancer diagnoses and painful biopsies.

I spent last night with some of the best friends I have ever had and for a nice change nobody took any naked pictures of me...or any pictures at all for that matter...

Looking back at the past years of treatment I think I've made the right call. I've refused all invasive measures and I'm still alive and kicking. Let's face it, statisically it's all but assured that I'll die of cancer but then again, I don't exactly have any fear of dying. (And I hate it when people think that is me being fatalistic or morose...if I die, I die...why fear the nothingness that existed before I was sentient?)

I remember after the last diagnosis and also when I buried Cassie everyone expected Gott Sein to be my personal theme song. I really laughed at that one. While the song is among my favorites by Megaherz I'd kinda have to believe in "God" to harbour any ill will or resentment towards said "God."

Speaking of Cassie I have too many yahrzeits on my calendar. It reminds me of one set of lines that really rang true for me

"I don't care for cemeteries."
"What, too many Romero Moves?"
"No, too many funerals."

Hell, when you have Kaddish memorized in 3 different languages, and you're only halfway decent in two of them (Russian and Hebrew) you know you have been to too many funerals...

Which brings up the old argument with mom. She knows the only time I'll probably ever step foot in a church again is when Grams dies. She asked me how I'd react to that and I let her know that I've already accepted her eventual upcoming death and that I'd fly in. Appear for the viewing, skip the Rosary. Show up for the Funeral, will be willing to be a pallbearer but will not participate in any ceremonials for a religion I am not a part of. I would be wearing my kippah and said Kaddish discreetly and privately but would only be at the wake for a bit before I skipped town to come back home. I've not gotten it through to Mom that I don't consider her siblings or their offspring as part of my family. My family is basically my two remaining grandparents, dad, mom, and Katie. Heather, Kelly, Pattie and Laurie can kiss my hairy Hebrew ass and more importantly spare me the "come to Jesus" bullshit. I don't think they've really gotten that their superstitions are not mine.