A Taste of Mortality

The good old tale of the "Christmas Miracle" is a trite old thing that tends to be hashed and rehashed every season, reflected in our eyes in the form of heart-warming family TV specials new and old. It's true, the general feeling of good will toward man seems to spark the belief that magical things can happen during the holidays. Christmas morning surprises, sparking (or rekindling) of warm romances, the flight of reindeer and the belly-jiggling laughter of elderly elfs seem thoroughly ingrained in our brains if for no other reason than the plethora of catchy jingles the world is inundated with every year.

But with all this giving and getting and counting your blessings, it's not often you feel thankful for your own time here. A trip head-first down a flight of stairs changes that a bit.

If I were counting up the most extraordinary extremes of chance in my life, my fall has to be one of the closest things to a miracle I've found. Black and blue, sure. A scratch or two, indeed. A chip off the elbow, even! But all in all, a rather clean bill of health that defies any rational course of events.

Facing your own demise briefly clarifies the world a bit. That email you were going to write one of these days, the story you wanted to finish by the end of the month, the people you told "See you tomorrow!" all becomes things that, potentially, will never happen. Putting off anything until tomorrow could very well be the last thing you do.

Some people get it when you tell them. And I think that hurts more than the concept of mortality itself when you hear someone say "I thought about what it would be like if you weren't here," and you see how it bothers them, too.

But the feeling goes away. The clarity and drive fades, and all the petty worries and enervation return. It is as if nothing has really changed at all. Nothing besides the vexing impaired use of my left arm, at least.

Yet it's the cusp of a New Year. If there's a time for resolutions, I think this would be it.

Here's to the Year 2008. One with the days just packed.