Last night I was thinking a lot about tidal waves, and how I am nothing to a tidal wave. I might as well be a tiny snail, but also I could be the strongest, tallest person in the world. I would still be nothing to a tidal wave.
Like Stephen Crane in The Open Boat said. Something about man, something something “nature does not regard him as important” something something something “would not maim the universe by disposing of him”.
Drops in the bucket. Unique fractals, sure, but all drops in the bucket that is never short of more drops.
And then I thought maybe it would be very poetic to die of “tidal wave.”
Surely nicer than “she died of cancer”, “she died of car crash”, she died of Covid 19,” “she died of broken heart,” “she died of organ failure.”
She died of tidal wave. Gravity and the Sun and the Moon conspired together to form a wave that would rip her from the shore, plunge her back into the earth, where maybe she will become a tiny sea star or a mollusk or a crab, or maybe she’ll wait a little while and just luxuriate being back in the bucket.
The shape of a tidal wave is like a ghost with his arms up chasing Scooby.
I should not like to meet a ghost.
Unless the ghost is my grandmother, and only if she is a happy ghost.
To clarify, a happy ghost would be a ghost that is just perhaps there to say “hi, hello, I see you trying down here…”
To further clarify, my grandmother who is deceased already. Not the currently living one.
And to further clarify, I should not like to meet a tidal wave either.
I know it’s very confusing.
I couldn’t sleep, and was thinking about fear and tidal waves and thought that maybe they were not so scary after all, that they might be a very meaningful way to go if you got to choose. Although, if you got to choose, it would not really be a tidal wave, because then it would be up to YOU and not a conspiracy from the moon.
To further further clarify, I should not like to die. Not yet. I am okay. I am great, although I am tired and have menstrual cramps and I wish a lot of things.
I guess what I mean to say is I am going to die someday and so are you, and perhaps “these uncertain times” are the first time you’ve truly had to face that inevitability, and I feel for you. It is a daunting realization to grapple with for the first time.
I remember my first time. Very bittersweet. Bitter because who wants to go?
And sweet because I came to realize that the person I’d miss the most is me.
But yes, tidal waves.