Blue is indeed a glorious and noble color - at least to the perception of any sentient creature habituated to life on this particular planet during this particular era in the solar system's life cycle, where the specific light frequencies of our anchoring star, the specific mixture of atomic elements in our atmosphere, and the specific evolved configuration of our light-sensing organs dictate that blue is the color we perceive when observing the heavens: at least during the daytime periods of our continuously oscillating planet's rotation in spacetime. Anyone who's been using Windows operating systems since their inception, however, is also intimately aware of the historical reality of a thing called "the blue screen of death." Now, my paternal grandmother herself died at least a decade before I was born, so I never had the opportunity of speaking to her for a first time - much less a last time. My maternal grandmother, on the other hand, lived well into her 90s and toward the end descended into a form of senile dementia or Alzheimer's, dictating that she barely ever spoke or moved out of whatever position she was placed into by her caregivers. Conventional wisdom believes such persons are completely changed from their former personalities and have no effective awareness of their surroundings. My mother's surviving elder sister tasked herself with keeping her mother at home, spoon feeding her every day, managing her personal hygiene, and at least insuring she constantly existed in a stable, calm and loving atmosphere. I was in my mid-twenties at the time, several years out of the Army, and living a fairly desperate and dissolute existence in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Doing sweaty grunt work for minimum wage in the high-rise Marriott hotel downtown (a stone's throw from the rollin', mighty Mississipp') and supplementing my income by renting a particular high-value portion of my anatomy to hungry middle-aged men with more money than love in their lives. Upon learning of my Grandmother's and Aunt's difficulties, I determined to abandon this self-centered and dangerous "lifestyle" and moved to a small, agro-industrial city in the middle of nowhere, in Iowa, to render whatever assistance I could to my Aunt in her labors of love. This was in 1978, by the way, and within just a couple years of making this move, I realized to my horror and unbelieving relief that implementing this selfless and altruistic decision had beyond all possible doubt saved my life from the inevitably excruciating and mortal ravages of HIV-AIDS. Not that God had intervened in my life specifically, but that my own decision to do the right and difficult thing when it needed to be done had safely removed me from a looming future epicenter of infection and mass grief. I am only alive today because I chose sacrifice and familial duty over self-indulgence and pleasure at just the right moment in history. Anyway, I found more menial work in a restaurant/bar and moved into a rooming house in Iowa, dedicating my evenings to visiting the sick house and providing whatever assistance I could to my Aunt in her constant and necessary labors. The principal physical challenge was each of us taking an arm and slow-walking the silent and seemingly impervious matriarch to and from the toilet to allow her to move her bowels every night before bed. This continued for several years. One evening just before the end - after a particularly torturous, difficult and fraught trip from the toilet to the bed - after the woman was finally comfortably settled on her side and neatly covered for the night, I suddenly without premeditation softly and gently blurted out: "I hope you know how much we love you." And instantaneously her right hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed my own right hand (directly, without the least fumbling or hesitation) and silently squeezed it firmly for several seconds. So much for the "conventional wisdom" that Alzheimer's patients are not aware of what is happening around them! And that was the last thing I ever said to my maternal Grandmother, shortly before she died. Now, I'm off for my habitual morning 3-mile walk; and if it's the last time I ever do that or visit this channel, I leave you with profound gratitude and continued encouragement for your daily philosophical musings and earnest and careful scholarship. Long may you continue on similar paths and experience along the way satisfaction, delight and love in relationship with all fellow creatures. I leave you with two instructive and appropriate quotations from the accumulated wisdom of humanity; the first from 2 Samuel 23:1-4: "Now these be the last words of David. David the son of Jesse said, and the man who was raised up on high, the anointed of the God of Jacob, and the sweet psalmist of Israel, said, The Spirit of the LORD spake by me, and his word was in my tongue. The God of Israel said, the Rock of Israel spake to me, He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God. And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain." The second is recorded in the Mahaparinibbana Sutta and refers to Gautama the Buddha himself: "Then the Exalted One addressed the brethren, and said: 'Behold now, brethren, I exhort you, saying: Decay is inherent in all component things! Work out your salvation with diligence!' "This was the last word of the Tathagata!"
Thank you for sharing that story and thank you for the two passages of timeless wisdom. I’ll do well to remember both the story and passages. Always appreciate you.
@@Deadphilosopherssociety Thanks, Ethan. It is 40+ years since those events transpired; and to this day I do not understand what motivated me to suddenly blurt out that honest profession of love (she showed no particular sign of being as close to the end, as she was). But in all those 40+ years, I have been so, so glad that I did.
Bro got me in feels at 8 in the morning😭
It’s should be a scary thought on the surface but it should also help you enjoy this day so much more
Blue is indeed a glorious and noble color - at least to the perception of any sentient creature habituated to life on this particular planet during this particular era in the solar system's life cycle, where the specific light frequencies of our anchoring star, the specific mixture of atomic elements in our atmosphere, and the specific evolved configuration of our light-sensing organs dictate that blue is the color we perceive when observing the heavens: at least during the daytime periods of our continuously oscillating planet's rotation in spacetime. Anyone who's been using Windows operating systems since their inception, however, is also intimately aware of the historical reality of a thing called "the blue screen of death."
Now, my paternal grandmother herself died at least a decade before I was born, so I never had the opportunity of speaking to her for a first time - much less a last time. My maternal grandmother, on the other hand, lived well into her 90s and toward the end descended into a form of senile dementia or Alzheimer's, dictating that she barely ever spoke or moved out of whatever position she was placed into by her caregivers. Conventional wisdom believes such persons are completely changed from their former personalities and have no effective awareness of their surroundings. My mother's surviving elder sister tasked herself with keeping her mother at home, spoon feeding her every day, managing her personal hygiene, and at least insuring she constantly existed in a stable, calm and loving atmosphere.
I was in my mid-twenties at the time, several years out of the Army, and living a fairly desperate and dissolute existence in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Doing sweaty grunt work for minimum wage in the high-rise Marriott hotel downtown (a stone's throw from the rollin', mighty Mississipp') and supplementing my income by renting a particular high-value portion of my anatomy to hungry middle-aged men with more money than love in their lives. Upon learning of my Grandmother's and Aunt's difficulties, I determined to abandon this self-centered and dangerous "lifestyle" and moved to a small, agro-industrial city in the middle of nowhere, in Iowa, to render whatever assistance I could to my Aunt in her labors of love.
This was in 1978, by the way, and within just a couple years of making this move, I realized to my horror and unbelieving relief that implementing this selfless and altruistic decision had beyond all possible doubt saved my life from the inevitably excruciating and mortal ravages of HIV-AIDS. Not that God had intervened in my life specifically, but that my own decision to do the right and difficult thing when it needed to be done had safely removed me from a looming future epicenter of infection and mass grief. I am only alive today because I chose sacrifice and familial duty over self-indulgence and pleasure at just the right moment in history.
Anyway, I found more menial work in a restaurant/bar and moved into a rooming house in Iowa, dedicating my evenings to visiting the sick house and providing whatever assistance I could to my Aunt in her constant and necessary labors. The principal physical challenge was each of us taking an arm and slow-walking the silent and seemingly impervious matriarch to and from the toilet to allow her to move her bowels every night before bed. This continued for several years.
One evening just before the end - after a particularly torturous, difficult and fraught trip from the toilet to the bed - after the woman was finally comfortably settled on her side and neatly covered for the night, I suddenly without premeditation softly and gently blurted out: "I hope you know how much we love you." And instantaneously her right hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed my own right hand (directly, without the least fumbling or hesitation) and silently squeezed it firmly for several seconds. So much for the "conventional wisdom" that Alzheimer's patients are not aware of what is happening around them!
And that was the last thing I ever said to my maternal Grandmother, shortly before she died.
Now, I'm off for my habitual morning 3-mile walk; and if it's the last time I ever do that or visit this channel, I leave you with profound gratitude and continued encouragement for your daily philosophical musings and earnest and careful scholarship. Long may you continue on similar paths and experience along the way satisfaction, delight and love in relationship with all fellow creatures. I leave you with two instructive and appropriate quotations from the accumulated wisdom of humanity; the first from 2 Samuel 23:1-4:
"Now these be the last words of David. David the son of Jesse said, and the man who was raised up on high, the anointed of the God of Jacob, and the sweet psalmist of Israel, said, The Spirit of the LORD spake by me, and his word was in my tongue. The God of Israel said, the Rock of Israel spake to me, He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God. And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain."
The second is recorded in the Mahaparinibbana Sutta and refers to Gautama the Buddha himself:
"Then the Exalted One addressed the brethren, and said: 'Behold now, brethren, I exhort you, saying: Decay is inherent in all component things! Work out your salvation with diligence!'
"This was the last word of the Tathagata!"
Thank you for sharing that story and thank you for the two passages of timeless wisdom. I’ll do well to remember both the story and passages. Always appreciate you.
@@Deadphilosopherssociety Thanks, Ethan. It is 40+ years since those events transpired; and to this day I do not understand what motivated me to suddenly blurt out that honest profession of love (she showed no particular sign of being as close to the end, as she was). But in all those 40+ years, I have been so, so glad that I did.
It’s a great reminder for me to always tell my loved ones I love them
why did you made a shirt out of your bedsheets?
Why not?
@@Deadphilosopherssociety:d
i likethe video but please turn up ur master volume i have a loud speaker setup for production and my shit was way up to even hear a word yousaid
It is very loud on my end I’ll look into it tho