Life and death dissolve into each other in the waterfall. Without this reunion, life would be a run-on sentence, dangling without meaning. Death shapes the contours of our being. Now forever.
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Imagine the relief provided by the smallpox vaccine. I have friends, polio victims, who have devoted their lives to eradicating the disease. Kindergarten entry vaccines, college admission vaccines, international travel vaccines. Tetanus. Mumps. What advances, such advantages.
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When Lucille Clifton asks, “won’t you celebrate with me,” we answer yes. What does this Black woman decide when she finds no model for how to create her life? “what did i see but to be myself?” she responds. The poet fastens her hands and makes her life of “starshine and clay.” What does a boy from the staunchly-segregated south long to do before he dies? Jimmy Carter casts his ballot for Kamala Harris. Won’t you celebrate the 39th president with me?