Thoughts on mortality

When I Was Young

When I was young, I thought everything would work out, every wrong would be righted, every lack would be met, every broken heart mended. It didn’t take long for Life to demolish those and all the similar misguided notions I, like so many others before me, held dear. That harsh reality probably comes as no surprise to most, if not all, but it truly gave me pause when I became a parent. I thought I could right all the mistakes my parents had made in raising me and my siblings; oh, I had a long list of evils I would avoid. Imagine my surprise then when I found myself telling my children, “You, too, will someday tell your children these very things, deny them the same things I deny you, enforce the same kinds of rules I insist on, and, someday, find yourself saying these same words to your children.”

In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have to worry, but the world is becoming less perfect with each passing day, and a diligence is ever more a parental responsibility. The more dangers one identifies and deals with, the more crop up, seemingly out of nowhere. I am reminded of the Norse myth of Baldur, the blind son of Odin and Freya, whom everyone loved for his beauty, talent and charming manner. One day, though, Freya received a warning that someone wished Baldur evil; wishing to forestall any attempt to harm her son, Freya went around to all the various elements that might be used to harm him, extracting a solemn promise from stone, poisons and wood that they would not participate in any threat to Baldur's safety. She overlooked only the lowly mistletoe, a menial plant that posed no danger in her mind.

Baldur, on learning of this protection, thought it amusing to allow others to shoot at him with arrows or throw stones, while he played his lyre and sang songs, in the sunlit meadow near his home. All thought it a wonderful amusement, harmless and great fun, as they did their best to use some article to hurt Baldur, but he only laughed it all off, unscathed. Loki, the troublemaker, always jealous and willing to cause unrest, found out about the mistletoe; he came to the meadow where all were gathered one fine afternoon, and asked might he have a shot at the great Baldur, with his tiny bow and single arrow. All agreed it would be great sport to see this, since no harm could come of it anyway. Loki stepped forward, pulled out his arrow and affixed the mistletoe to his arrow, then pulled back and let it fly. The arrow sped straight toward Baldur, carrying his doom. The lesson from this story amply illustrates our inability to account for everything; no amulet or saving grace will protect us or our loved ones from every peril in the world. Of course, it didn't help that Baldur, like so many young people, revelled in his immortality, laughing in the face of danger, daring it even. We've all done it, some of us continue to do so, but eventually, we all come to the same conclusion, the same understanding, if we are lucky enough to escape the consequences. The sure knowledge that it is only a matter of time, and how much time is up to us, after all.