The Wake of the Blood Moon Passover

The usual scientific crap about “blood moons” appeared in various places in the week leading up the night when the eclipse happened.
Some newspapers had simple diagram-like pictures with explanations of how the planets, sun and moon create an eclipse. There were similar, but more ambitious pages on the internet, with elaborate graphics showing movement, positions and the timing.  One fake news site hailed the Blood Moon as a sign that the president was the anti-christ. (no kidding!) Coverage ran from basic to ridiculous. What none of those articles could explain, were the things that happened as the moon blinked and Passover passed over us.

During the day, on Sunday, the 14th of April,  3 motorcyclists were killed. One was a young-ish guy named Andrew, out on a Sunday AM ride with his friends. He blew a left hander up on hwy 9, crossed the highway in to the path of an oncoming car. He died at the scene. Witnesses and friends said he wasn’t riding recklessly when it happened ; he just blew the turn.

I don’t know the details of the other 2 crashes, but heard that one of them involved a rider that was splitting lanes at high speed on a local freeway, and ended up dead. The last one, I don’t know what happened, just that a rider was killed. Spring-time is a dangerous time of year for motorcyclists, not for the hard-core, everyday riders who keep to the code that says “Ride, but make it home alive”, but for the casual, mostly inexperienced riders. Add a new motorcycle to the recipe and the risk of crashing is magnified.
I’ve ridden something over a million miles on 2 wheels, starting with my first “secret bike” that I stashed behind a neighbor’s garage as a teenager, and the dozens more that I’ve tamed and been humbled by.

Then today, I read that the wife of an old friend of mine died suddenly from an unknown, but natural cause yesterday. His words expressed the profound shock and disbelief that he was feeling.  He death was totally unexpected, his life and how he pictured his future are forever changed; just like that.

The blood moon has come and gone, with this year’s passover watching over it. A dark angel taking four souls, leaving their lives for us to remember until those days are distant, and far and away.

I’ve outlived some close friends, really good friends. I often fantasize about what they would be doing if they were still alive, what they might say to this or that. I imagine conversations with them, too; sort of an insane thing to do, but it’s my mind and it is sort of comforting to think that they might be listening in.
None of these friends, except for one, was really old enough to die. A few were young,  so it’s awkward and sad all over again when I think about them.  Most were my age, so I scold the ones who fucked up and ended up dead. Drugs, booze and related diseases were involved in some, but one or two  just up and died for no good reason.

The worst thing is this: These were people who at one time were my best friends, and so the sadness cuts really deep if I pause and let it get it to me again, and it still hurts if I let it. Sometimes I do just let that sadness wash over me, as if feeling it could bring back the life they used to have, or maybe it’s that I believe, just a little that they will feel missed, which is crazy of course. But I do think that.

Death, dying and all that stuff. It may be the one subject I really don’t understand at all. I used to read the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and books like “The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying” by Sogyal Rinpoche, but I haven’t picked up anything like that in years. None of them ever answered the questions that I have. In fact, I don’t even believe my own death will be any revealing experience. I’ll just die, poof.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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