A Stoic Onlooker

Once upon a time, I could offer the right words for brittle hearts. These days, I don’t feel I have the credibility anymore.

I went to the candlelight memorial service Monday night. I went to the visitation at the funeral home Tuesday night. I went to the funeral service and burial Wednesday afternoon. I did as much as I could, offering what few meaningful words I could muster, but mostly remaining a stoic onlooker. That does seem to be my role in things, does it not?

It’s been a rough week for everyone, but it’s all said and done now.

I feel… older. I am known as “Mr. Scott,” which still sounds odd to me outside the dojo. It’s a strange feeling, being starkly aware of my position as a faculty member. Though I’m “just a sub,” though I’ve barely “led” anyone outside of choir or band, it’s still something of a leadership role, and it’s a strange new sadness to lose a student. She loved music…

And so, a community begins to heal.

This weekend, meanwhile, others are celebrating life. More specifically, a birthday. More specifically, my sister’s birthday. A few friends and I will be meeting her at the piano bar in Columbia later tonight. My old college friend Jim Beam is coming with me. Hope sparks within, and for some reason all I can think of is the last time I was in Columbia for an overnight visit, exhausted, listening to Bob Dylan’s Brownsville Girl with the windows rolled down, playing it over and over and over…

In the back of my mind, I wonder what troubles my friends have faced in my absence, moving on without me around. You know, back when I had sage words. Way back before all I was known for was a sour outlook and belligerent or immature humor. Back when I was part of a community. I wanted to be around for people like that, but the universe has been less than accommodating.

Once upon a time, I had the words to say. These days, I’m mostly a stoic onlooker. But I was there. I saw it all.