We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Electric word: life, it means forever and that's a mighty long time. But I'm here to tell ya there's something else...
Borrowed from a generous friend, the Aerobed was with James for 5 months. How do we measure, measure five months? In sleeping? In laying? In sheets and pillow cases? In reading and napping on free afternoons. Two hundred nineteen thousand and no other minutes. How do we measure the life of James' Aerobed?
I think Mystikal exemplifies the chasm of loss one feels during the grieving process in his rap on Bouncin' Back.
You can't do nothing about it, it’s Gods will that’s just how life be
One day it hit 'cha then it’s gone
And I'm serious and you ain't never even gone feel it until it hit home
That's when the pain run sharper and deeper
You ain't eatin’ that's when the days feel slow and long
I know you miss 'em so it's time to uplift 'em
Try to pick the pieces up and find a way to drive on
We must not dwell on the loss of James' air mattress and the pain he will feel from sleeping on the floor, but of all the good times. We must cherish these memories of warmth and being cradled a foot from the floor in the soft cloud called Aerobed.
The death of the Aerobed will hopefully usher in a new beginning with the birth of a real bed, or at least a platform bed mattress on the floor with the dream of the coming platform bed.
But until then I only have the floor and my dreams of...
...the after world. A world of never-ending happiness. You can always see the sun, day...or night.