It’s mesmerizing watching ripples expand from a single drop of water. Slow motion photography can really capture the precision as one drop causes the surface of the water to undulate in beautiful, yet predictable ways. Perfect concentric circles grow out from the original drop’s depression. If many drops fall on a surface, as in a rainfall, the resultant ripples impact with each other and create chaotic, lively movement.
And aren’t our lives a little like these ripples? One life, one drop, makes an impression, then moves outward, touching and interacting with an ever expanding community. Like the circle of sister trees that I wrote about “here.” https://www.reneeharmon.com/2023/10/03/a-circle-of-sisters/
One person’s life is a legacy that isn’t linear, but rather, circular, ever widening. And because one person influences many others, that original soul lives on in the multiplicity of other souls he or she encounters. You don’t know how a kind word or a particularly thoughtful act may have influenced someone. And if it changed that person in some small part, that effect carries on to the people this second person interacts with.
It’s an ever widening circle of influence.
Of course, we interact with many people throughout our lives, each life dropping into a vast sea. As our spheres of influence collide with others’, the surface dances.
Now, five years after Harvey died, I am in awe of the ripple effect his life had, and continues to have. Nothing giant; it’s not a tidal wave. He was a gentle man, and thus, his lived life spreads softly, with small wavelets. But they carried far.
Harvey dropped into my life in college as a conscientious, studious, but easy-going pre-med student. I was aware of his presence, but not his interest in me, at first. As we fell in love, I realized his quiet demeanor had the effect of calming my storms. I let his love wash over and through me, wearing away some of my rough edges, and I became aware that my intense nature was lessening.
Harvey touched many patients’ lives. There is no telling how his kind, thoughtful words changed the lives he encountered in our practice. And if his patients achieved better physical and/or emotional health, those closest to his patients felt those effects, too, secondarily.
Harvey continued to cause ripples in people’s lives, even while living with Alzheimer’s disease. Those willing to engage with him when he was far from his prior self encountered a sweet, playful, open soul. I realize not all persons living with dementia present so pleasantly. For this, I am still quite grateful.
I dreamed of Harvey earlier this month, the first time in a long time. In the dream, he was young, healthy, and smiling. I asked him, “Harv, what are you doing here?” He replied, “I’m a necrologist.” A necrologist? In the dream, I applied my Latin skills and decided this translated as “a person who studies death.” Well, that’s interesting. Even in the next realm, Harvey was studying his environment, observing, and was almost certainly asking questions.
He is still creating ripples, in this world, and maybe the next.