Hero

I sit here, crying, which I've been doing for the better part of three days. I am crying for so many things, love and loss being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

I am crying even though I, like so many others, was told not to.

I am crying because the world has lost a hero, and because sadness is an emotion I feel in my soul, not just my heart and mind, it overtakes me, it swamps and swallows me whole.

I am crying because it is RIGHT to mourn the passing of a hero, because the world is darker, it no longer feels complete.

I am crying because I, like so many others, hurt.

So I decided to simply write the thoughts coursing through my mind, as I sometimes do, with no regard for how it would turn out, no care for whether or not it would be well received.

I decided to write because I had to. It is who I am. He would have understood that, I know it.

I'm writing about a hero, an immortal.

So, what is a hero? What makes a hero? Why are some heroes, and others not? All good questions, all seen in many different ways. The answers to those questions will be different for everyone, because we are ourselves different from each other.

I feel, in my heart, that a hero is a person of courage, a person of such strong conviction, belief, that they simply cannot be denied. I feel that a hero is a person who faces each day and says "Bring it on, I can take it, you can beat me, but you can never break me". A hero is someone who does what's right, when everyone around them looks the other way and ignores.

A hero is someone who shows uncommon valor at uncommon times, but even more, is really always that way.

A hero is not afraid to live, even though they may already know that their fight is lost.

An even better question would be "Why do we make so much of these people, why do we call them heroes?"

And the answer is simple:

Because they INSPIRE us to do more, to BE more, to persevere, to BELIEVE. They are what we all, some secretly, some not so much, wish we could be.

And yet none of them, not those that are truly heroes, see themselves the way that we see them, because true heroes don't see anything uncommon about the way they live their lives, the things they do, they are simply themselves, as we should ALL be.

Heroes accept life as it comes, they accept themselves, which is even more uncommon in a world where so many try so hard to be someone else, to be someone or something they are not.

Heroes do what needs to be done, and leave the fanfare to other people. They do not want to be idolized, they don't need rewards, just LIVING is all they want or need.

Heroes UNDERSTAND life far better than the rest of us.

These words, to me, describe a hero.

One in particular.

A young man, far away from me, whom I kept on eye on for the simple fact that he intrigued me. He had many of the same thoughts and ideas on life as I did, but that is NOT what made him so interesting to me, not at all.

It was that he stared death in the face every single day, he KNEW what most of us ignore, what we avoid, he KNEW that life was short, that bad things happen to good people. He KNEW every single night that he might not ever wake up to greet another day. He KNEW he might not get to say good-bye to those that loved him and that he loved. He KNEW that dying wasn't the important thing, because he knew it was coming, what was important that he not give in to the all the evils that befell him, what was important was that when the time came, he knew he was leaving on his own terms.

He KNEW that you LIVE until you die. He believed it. And he did it.

God rest his soul, he did it every day, every single day until he ran out of days. How many among us can say that about ourselves?

I know I can't say that. I am stronger than I ever thought I could be,  but I am still weak compared to the resolve of this young man.

I cry for the loss of a hero, even though I know that he will still inspire us as our days go on. I cry because I know how much he, his life, and his fight, meant to so many.

And I know that  I do not cry alone.

When a hero passes, the world it's self feels and shares our pain, it cries with us.

And THAT is what makes a hero immortal.

Good-bye my friend, thank you for inspiring so many, for inspiring ME. I am happy your pain is over. Ours too, will pass.

10/15/83 - 01/11/10

And nothing more needs be said.

jlp January 14, 2010