lost

last week amid the much publicized deaths of michael jackson, farrah fawcett, and billy mays thousands of other mothers, fathers, sons and daughters quietly lost their lives. one of whom was a friend of my mom's, ken.

he lost consciousness and drove into a tree. perhaps a heart attack, perhaps a stroke - something that prevented him from touching the brakes. ken never woke up after the collision and today he passed away.

he had just retired a few months ago from a job that mom said sucked the life out of him. every year she said he looked grayer.. his skin in addition to his hair. he clung to a hope that he could make a difference and improve things in a broken and corrupt system, but in the end he gave it all away and the only thing changed was him. less creative, less happy, less fun, less alive.

i didn't know this man that my mom cried over this morning. but in another way i did. when she described the people for whom he worked, the unrecognized and ineffective efforts he made there and the way it drained him i saw myself.

myself over the past six to eight months.
myself blindly clinging to threads of hope.
myself losing respect for myself.

i'm sad for my mom and the people who were close to her friend ken. my heart breaks for his heart break and now theirs. but i choose to take his story and use it as a reminder that i was losing much more each and every day than i lost on friday, when i lost my job.

d: ken's creative energy redeployed.. in me
b: all is not lost.
g: i lost my job.