David's Harp: I am okay

At a recent funeral, an elderly mourner collapsed and died at the cemetery. After I somehow revived him with CPR, his first words were, “I’m okay; I’m okay.” I turned to his daughter who was still screaming and I said, “He’s okay.” I then picked up a shovel and continued filling in the grave of the deceased.

I thought about the events of that day and have tried to surmise some great meaning and philosophical conclusions. The best I can offer is this. You are either dead or you’re okay. Dead or okay…. that’s it. Those are the options. You are in the grave or you are holding the shovel. Dead or okay.

Are we really okay? All of us are usually so involved with so many maladies, maladjustments, and malfunctions. We are so burdened with investigating, evaluating and introspecting our lives. We are confused, complex and or out, or about, or about what, or who, or where, or why. We travel and stay home and read and think and text and tweet. We eat, sleep, medicate, meditate, dedicate, educate, delegate, regulate, relegate and infuriate. We don’t feel okay.

We are balancing checkbooks and carpools, and dining and whining; and we are down and out, and up and early, and late to bed. We are running and falling; chasing and racing; and finding no time and missing appointments. We’re playing catch up and next time and maybe later and try me then and I don’t know and we’ll see because of the kids and my parents and the school and the office and the traffic and the lawn guy and the delivery and the deadline and the coworker and the Verizon bill and the plane and the train and the oil change and I can’t find my battery charger, my keys, my adapter, my glasses, the invitation, the check, the stapler, the book, the card, the phone and the list I made of all the things I can’t find it. Where is it? I don’tfeel okay, I don’t look okay; I don’t sound okay.

How can I be okay? I’m too fat, too gray, too poor, too old, too achy and too shaky; too lost and too aggravated. I don’t like my hair and my chin and my nose and my toes and my car and my patio and my nails and my annual interest rate and my phone plan. I don’t have enough perfume and pearls and points and pensions and pixels and passion and peace. How can I be okay?

I’m so behind with the laun- dry and doing the bills and the grocery shopping and the report and the plan and the payment and the deadline. I owe her a gift and him a call and a card and we should really get together for dinner or a coffee. I’ll do it later or tomorrow or next week or this month for sure. And I’ve got to wash my car and get to the gym and take a class and run or at least walk and find my easel and my camera and my scrap book and go through the photos and the mail and the recycling pile and the summer clothes and get the kids sneakers and socks and buy a dress for the party and a tune up and an oil change and what’s that noise when I accelerate? I have to get organized, simonized, memorized, mesmerized, energized, harmonized, ionized, romanticized and rationalized.

My blood pressure is up, my count is low, my arch is in, my hair is out, my back drips, my acid refluxes, my arteries are hard and my belly is soft.

I need a pill to sleep, Red Bull to wake up, a tea to be tranquil, lotion for dryness, orthodics for my feet, a board for my back, I have the chills, I’m too cold, hot flashes, sweating, dry mouth, psoriasis, halitosis, I can’t walk, I hate to drive at night,

I don’t like to fl y, I’m stressed out, packed in, backed up, loosely held together, tense, dense, tired, wired, fi red, rehired, mired, non-desired, lied to, kicked, hit, taunted, bullied, beat up, fed up, set up, put down, let down, fell down, broke my hip, replaced my knees, going into rehab, a relapse, an addiction, compulsive, OCD, ADD, IOU, ICU, ER, OR, oh my G-d, oh boy, oy vey, I’m not okay. If you are alive …you are okay. The man was laying on the ground in a graveyard in the cemetery. He was dead and then he was okay.

We should give ourselves a break. Look at the big picture. Look at that menu; see our two choices. And say to ourselves, “I’m okay, I’m okay; baruch Hashem, I’m okay.”