Dr. Jedidiah's Diary Episode #49. Are You With Me, My Friend?

Dr. Jedidiah’s Diary

Dr. Jedidiah is a psychiatrist who loves traveling, meeting new people, and exploring different cultures. As a single father who lost his wife to drug overdose 10 years ago, he has not been his old perky self for the last decade. During those hard years, he has met hundreds of, thousands of people from various walks of life around all over the world. Meeting new people and listening to their stories outside his office have given him different feelings from the ones through the formal encounter groups or support groups for therapy. These people he has accidentally come across were the paths through which Dr. Jedidiah could look back on his own life, being truly honest with himself. Here is Dr. Jedidiah’s monologue that has left him with some food for thoughts in life….or a fodder to justify his own mistakes in the past.

 

Episode 49. Are You With Me, My Friend?

The day when my close buddy, Tim passed still brings me a lot of thoughts. To me, he seemed to be the very last person to leave this world for good. He was the most gentle, kind-hearted, and soft-spoken man that people who lost their loved ones could ever imagine and count on in their deepest sorrow of grieving. I found myself smirking at the thought of ‘Where’s Tim now? He should be right here, consoling the bereaved family and friends at the viewing. Oh,…I must be crazy. He’s the one right there in the open casket. What are you doing there, buddy?’ Even while I was looking down on his lifeless, but peaceful face and body in his casket, I could not believe that he was gone. Frankly, I was too selfish to admit that Tim would not be there for me when I’d need someone to wrap up my life. Who else could do the mitzvah for me on my final day?

 

Tim and I grew up in the same town, going to the same schools from K through 12, sharing silly jokes, speaking ill of mean streak teachers, hanging out together every day after school, and even sharing bitter feelings of having no prom dates. We even knew each other’s secret dark sides an often finished each other’s sentences, giggling as if we meant to say “Verbum sap!”. Although he was born to the parents of Scottish origin, I had often felt like Tim and I were related. He accepted me just the way I was either on good or gloomy days. Even my cranky mood would not push him away from me. He’d say “Where’s all your jollification? But I forgive even your tirrivee, man, just like my Scottish mama says!” Yes, we were so tight that nobody could be in the way of our friendship. However, he was growing more and more silent and withdrawn in our senior year of high school. Tim was no longer that cheerful friend of mine who used to joke around all the time and dance with gusto at the annual talent show at school. He was often caught with a faraway look, while I was talking to him. When I asked Tim what he would do after graduation, he seemed very hesitant about letting me know what was on his mind. One day, I was at the lowest threshold of my patience and yelled at him. “Hey, Tim, can’t you just stop prevaricating? What’s the matter with you? Just tell me what you’re up to, dude Your silence just sticks in my craw!!”

 

The air surrounding me and Tim felt too unfamiliarly cold that day. Tim said “Listen, I don’t want you to be a fussbudget when I confide in you now. I’ll be working for my father’s funeral home. Yes….I’ll become a funeral director like my dad.” Dumbfounded and lost for words. All I could say was “Oh, will ya? Yeah, why not? It is a necessary business that everybody needs some day.” Tim looked me in the eye for a moment and said “It is not just business. It’s more about the ultimate respect that a human presents to other humans. Like my dad has always told me, death is part of life. It is only the door to the eternal life elsewhere, and funeral directors help wrap up the passers’ body and soul with dignity at the door. I’d like to be part of that calling. Are you with me?”

 

After 20 years of living apart from each other, I heard a sad news from our mutual friend that Tim died of cancer. When I visited the viewing, all our good old memories as a child and teenaged boys came crashing through my mind. Tim looked as if he’d suddenly get up and say “Got ya!”. I came closer to Tim’s sleeping face and tried to whisper some good words in his ear, but felt no need to do so. Tim must have been looking down on me up there in Heaven and saying “Verbum sap, my friend.”

 

 

 

Expressions

   1.  to smirk: smile in an irritatingly smug, conceited, or silly way

 

   2.  viewing: an unstructured gathering of friends and family where visitors can pay their respects to either the deceased after having been prepared by a mortician, or to a cremation urn or series of memorial photos   

   3.  mitzvah: a good deed done from religious duty

 

   4.  mean streak: an inclination, tendency, or propensity for cruelty, spite, malice, or violence

   

   5.  verbum sap: a word to the wise is sufficient/ no more need to be said

 

   6.  tirrivee: tantrum

  

   7.  with gusto: a lot of eagerness/ passion

 

   8.  a faraway look: a facial expression or gaze that suggests that one is preoccupied by or contemplating something and not paying attention to one's current surroundings

 

   9.  to prevaricate: to speak or write or behave evasively/ to delay or procrastinate

 

   10.  something sticks in one’s craw: to rankle or irritate one

 

   11.  fussbudget: one who tends to be fussy or particular, usually to an excessive or unnecessary degree

 

   12.  calling: a strong inner impulse toward a particular course of action especially when accompanied by conviction of divine influence