Dedicated to the guys who brought me back
How do we die and why?
Do we die slowly or all at once?
Is it better one way over the other?
I died all at once
Didn’t even have time to think about it.
My death came on a basketball court—in a gym
At an elementary school—a most innocent place
As contrasted to the room next to us where families in a church service
Were singing their praises to God.
We were losing, we were winning, not unlike the way life is to us sometimes.
I came to the game with my son-in-law and a buddy of his.
I did not know the other guys I was playing with or against—
After all, I met them there only for a morning of exercise and fun.
They were only a handshake and first names to me.
We chose up sides and played 4 on 4—a pick-up team
The only talk was of basketball—good shot, by me, pick him up,
Short, clear out, 3-pointer, game—
That is until I died and my game was up.
No more talk of basketball—instead a real team without words came together.
Some used their hands, some used their lips and lungs, some used other devices
And they brought me back
They brought me back into the game.
So try to remember—I do—that it is the game—
The game that is the important thing.
David Belkin, February 2007