For KARL
Whenever I don’t feel like running but I have to, I run to the Brooklyn Promenade. The distance from my apartment to it and back is long enough to clock a quick 30 minute run. I think I’ve ran it so many times that I’m more familiar with Brooklyn Heights’ trash schedule than mine. One of the reasons I love running to the promenade is not only because it has the best view of New York, but because they have benches and your boy is one lazy fuck.
Besides the views which is within itself a good enough reason to pause, I’ve noticed it’s become a psuedo meditation spot for me. I view the New York skyline and buildings are distant mountain ranges that when fully viewing them truly make you feel so small. To the right I see the Brooklyn Bridge and Empire State Building reminding me that I’m just one person in a city of millions.
One day, I pulled up to the Promenade, with a sweaty face, sore legs and a mind filled with conflicting thoughts. I decided to take a seat on a bench. I have this thing where I love reading placards on New York benches. They’re usally very wholesome and romantic as it’s almost always dedicated to a loved one. More often than not they’re usually in celebrating of someone who has passed away. They list their accolades, short message and the person’s lifespan which tends to starts with a 19XX and ends with a 20XX.
But the one I sat on that day didn’t read like that
It read
For Karl
the cutest little baby in the world
March 19, 2015 – July 13, 2015
love, Mommy & Daddy
Reading this really made me sad, it made me forget whatever bullshit I was stressing about that day. It really put things into perspective. I know it sounds corny or cliché but when I read it I relly got emotional. I started to think about Karl’s parents, and what they had gone through. Then I started thinking about Karl and what happened to him. His life was just 5 months.
I’m 32, turning 33 in less than a month. I can remember being little, and looking at my dad when he was my age now and thinking he was ancient. When you’re little you assume time is paused, that growing old is but an illusion, a countdown that never hits 0, a sunset that never goes down, all being shined by youthful ignorance.
I started thinking about my life, how different it has been the last 10 years, 5 years even. How much someone can change in just short time. How lucky I am to still be alive, living in a city I love, still have my parents, a group of friends that support and care for me. I then started thinking about Karl, how he never got the chance to even take his first steps. It really bugged me. With all this being said, I’m not suggesting we can’t complain or want more or be bitter with our lives. I think the point I’m trying to get at is that living, loving, suffering, feeling is such a privelege. To grow old and die is a blessing.
I’ve had a pretty rough couple of months, if you’ve read any of my earlier entries or know me personally you know. I’ve done the typical “fighting demons = start running” to the point I signed up for a marathon in march. It’s obviously gotten better, I’m doing good and I can safetly say one of the reasons is because of Karl. Being reminded of how fragile life is and how we should embrace all aspects of it has brought me down to a level I can only hope to always cruise at.
I like to think that Karl’s parents visit that bench often. At the same time I wonder if they ever think their commemoration of their son has had any effect on people. I know it has with me. I’m very glad they did.
Even though Karl was only here for a few months, hes forever with the most beautiful view of New York.
For Karl.