A Lost Boy

Where do you turn when you feel lost?

How much did the loss of my grandparents actually affect me? Maybe it played more of a role than I thought…

I became a Lost Boy—like in Peter Pan. I’d fallen from my crib, and had not been claimed. When they were gone—there was no one there to fill the gap. I tried to fill the position, but ended up settling for the escape that drugs and alcohol provided instead.

Meme’s infinite love and compassion for others, and Papa’s wisdom and no nonsense approach to everything were completely forgotten.

I’d not thought of this perspective until recently. In Orange Slices, when talking about the family reunions I said, “It was a ritual. But it fell apart when my grandfather passed, he was the oldest of five boys.” Then during the revision process I saw it a little bit differently deeper… So I added-

In hind sight, that wasn’t the only thing that fell apart after Papa died…

That’s when I asked myself the question—How much did the loss of my grandparents really affect me?

They were my moral compass, and without their guidance and influence I spiraled out of control. It’s taken me a decade to regain my footing, and it’s only because I’ve found new mentors in philosophy.

I was a Lost Boy.

I was like Slightly, in a way. He was the most conceited of the Lost Boys, because he believed that he remembered what life was like before he was "lost". However, most of his "memories" were based on misunderstandings.

This sounds sooo much like my know-it-all self of the past! Dadgumit😒

I was still hanging on to circumstantial beliefs, and drowning in consumer culture at that time. And not only was I totally lost, and completely oblivious to it—I also thought I had it all figured out. It was a dangerous combination that ended in catastrophe…

Without Meme & Papa here in the flesh, I’d lost track of what they’d taught me over the many years that they were here. And I’m just now beginning to see that they never really left—they are still here with me through the examples that they set.

They may no longer be here with me physically, but Meme & Papa live on with me through the memories of kindness and understanding.

Their tireless work ethic, and willingness to help others.

Their presence, when you were with them—you never wondered if they were listening, or paying attention. They were always fully present. They kept their finger on the Pause Button—I don’t remember either of them losing their temper or saying anything rash.

So how much did the loss of my grandparents really affect me? Probably more than it should have. But that doesn’t mean that it has to stay that way. I think that maybe, they are still my guides—I just have to listen, and do my part.

I didn’t know that my Meme was notorious for writing letters until after she passed. During her memorial I discovered that throughout her life, my grandmother wrote and mailed letters of love to countless peoples in her community. One after another, her friends shared how receiving a letter from her during a dark time in their lives helped to give them the strength to make it out of that darkness.

My Meme’s light shined with a brightness that illuminated everyone she came in contact with. And she was the happiest, most content human I have ever been around. It’s taken me many years to see that the reason why, was that she lived in the present moment, and gave of herself freely at every opportunity.

Their example shows me what I am capable of—if I will only slow down and pay attention. That the time I have now, is more important than any past or future events. That I am so much more than I appear to be, and that all the earth’s power and wisdom are in me. That I too can be a light of love and understanding—but to do so I must stay present and shine that light!

So now I wonder—could I have ever gained this clarity if things had gone differently? Or was my fall part of the lesson? Would I be who I am today if they had been there to cushion that great fall?

I don’t think so—I would probably still be that Lost little Boy. That fall was needed for me to see what life truly is. And now, I have my own grandchildren to love and teach. My Meme and Papa may not be here in the flesh, but they are still holding my hand—their example of love and understanding will not only make me a better human, but a class act Peapaw.

In this morning’s Daily Stoic email, Ryan said, “There is a great teacher out there for all of us. But it’s your job to look for them. They say that when the student is ready the teacher will appear. That can be true… but we also can’t just sit around waiting for a miracle.”

I’m noticing more and more these days that the lessons my grandparents taught me were not lost just because they were no longer here to remind me. I am seeing many of those same lessons in the philosophies of my new role models—both in ancient texts, and through my daily interaction with many of you reading these words. And not only have I regained my path, but it’s clear to me now—my eyes are wide open.

I now see that those lessons weren’t lost at all—I’d just forgotten them.

I wasn’t a Lost Boy—I had just lost my path.

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I often quote Stoic philosophers — but I am no Stoic. I simply find much of their teachings put in a way that makes sense. I consider myself a student of philosophy, and see no reason to label it any further. Here is an essay where I spoke of my “five”. And although that list is always changing — right now I would add Master Parthasarathy, as I am studying his book The Vedanta Treatise — it is a good representation of my eclectic taste in learning.