Diligently Seek

I lost another loved one. It was my grandpa, on my father's side. I loved him and I will miss him. I also feel the intensity of the grief felt by my loved ones who knew him better, and loved him more, and miss him more painfully. The end of such a long life has me thinking of what life and death mean. As I have tried to prepare a draft of this post, I have scrapped several. My thoughts are stuck in awe of how mundane the terms are that I am trying to define. I have lived this morning. I got up early, brewed coffee, ate breakfast, went to the gym . . . Somehow in these, in the accretion and secretion of every effort, is the thing I am missing and dwelling on. The being that was my grandpa. Socrates ate. Alexander slept. Dante killed spiders. Washington sneezed. Jesus wept. Confucius said. Life is absurd. Often we resolve that absurdity with purpose, and that is the context in which I feel myself encountering my loved ones. They believe, in fact they w