Simple Virtues

So, you say this blog is not about Robert and Brenda Davilla. But it is about them, because they loved Jay, and today, they opened the gym and their hearts and with all the grace of heroes, they led a celebration of life. Jay's life. We all had a chance to meet each other and for his sake and because of his life and what he meant to each and all, to remember and to grieve and to share. When we are wounded, the cells connect one by one....

Here we are, together. United by one life that touched all of us.

I listened and I shared and most of all, I loved all the people who came. I loved them for being there, and I knew that they always were there for Jay, too.

For those who weren't able to be there, I shared a chunk of my life---the time that I died. I was eighteen, in the fullest of good health, and suddenly, mysteriously, in the night, a raging infection took over my body. An air sack in my lungs had exploded, leaving my body cavity open to infection. Within hours, a lethal build up of toxic gases accumulated and minutes after my college roommate tearfully brought my body into the emergency room at the University of Wisconsin Hospital, I died.

I rose out of my body, like a million tiny bubbles rising in a glass of soda pop, all coalescing into my recognizable self, hovering, cloud-like above the ER drama taking place below. It felt wonderful and I was not the least concerned. I knew that I had had this same experience many times before and I wasn't frightened. The word "death" didn't mean anything, but this gentle change of perspective, almost like diving under the surface of the water and seeing a different world. And what a world! A world without pain or guilt or fear. A world in which the only law was love. Unimaginable, boundless love, love that was inexhaustible, eternal, and absolute---NO MATTER WHAT.

From that moment on, and forever after, I have known "what love means". Remember the movie Forrest Gump? Remember when Forrest says, "I know what love means"?----Like that. No matter what. That is what awaits each one of us. Acceptance and love without any limit at all, love in spite of all our sins, all our weaknesses, and all our might-have-beens.

I have often thought of it and tried to translate it, tried to explain how it felt, what it meant, and how it changed my life. I'll leave it to each one of you to understand with your hearts ---each one of us is loved, cherished, and accepted as is. I had my glimpse of that "far country" and I know that when Jay ducked through the veil, he realized many things, but most of all, he realized that he was loved unconditionally.

Love--no matter what. That can be whether you are smart or dumb, rich or poor, fat or slim, ugly or beautiful---alive or dead. Love doesn't care. And neither should we. I have a little silver prayer charm that Jay gave me. It says "Love" on one side, and on the other side, is an inscribed heart. I hold it in my hand and pray for him each day and I will pray for him the rest of my life.

Pray for what? For his soul to be healed, for all the empty places to be filled, for his joy to be complete, for his future to be unfettered by pain or addiction, fear, or lack of anything. I pray that he will be reunited with those who love him, and that he will be able to do all the many things he wanted to do.

Last week I spoke of the fact that Jay always saw his faults looming so much larger than his virtues. This week, let's put the reverse on that. Remember one of his virtues for him. Recall it clearly and appreciate it, in him, and in others. While we are on it, why not make the effort to see our own virtues and the virtues of those closest to us? Like Robert and Brenda's great virtue and kindness to us all, in making such a wonderful celebration of life possible.