Matthew M Cornett

Tag: mental-health

  • Slip Sliding Away

    You never really know what someone could be going through. 

    If hospice taught me anything, that’s one of the more powerful lessons I learned early on and one that has stuck with me. When you see firsthand what some people go through when losing a loved one, it affects you and opens your eyes. You begin to see things differently. Just the other day, I stopped at McDonalds to get a drink and noticed an older lady eating by herself. My immediate thought was why is she alone? Did she lose someone and now she has to come here all by herself? Before working in hospice, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed and gone on with my life. But there I was wondering if I should risk looking like a weirdo and say hello or just move along. After all, maybe she needed the peace and quiet of eating alone and I was just making a bigger deal than I should. At least that’s what I told myself as I simply got my drinks and walked out to my truck. 

    The point is, we never know. My cousin posted something this morning that said “We’re all just one accident, one diagnosis, one unexpected phone call from a different life. Stay humble and don’t take anything for granted.” But that’s the problem…we do take it all for granted, don’t we? We go about our lives and don’t give a second thought to those kinds of things until it’s too late. I’m not saying we should go around gloom and doom all the time, but maybe taking a moment every once in a while to remind ourselves what’s really important could be beneficial. There’s a fine line there and we need to learn to navigate it.

    Music helps me do that. I’ve talked about this before, but that’s why I like sad songs. They are cathartic for me and remind me how good things actually are. Take Paul Simon’s “Slip Sliding Away.” Talk about a depressing song. It’s about three people-a husband, a wife, and a father, all of  whom see their lives “Slip Sliding Away.” Oh, and by the way- the one and only Oak Ridge Boys actually sang backup on it! Go read about it! It’s on “My Favorite Songs” playlist and has been since the first iteration of the list. When the main hook is“The nearer your destination, the more you’re slip sliding away,” you know you’re dealing with some heavy stuff. So why? Am I just masochistic? Or is there something more there?   

    In chapter ten of my book If We Never Meet Again, I wrote about a woman who was not exactly the happiest woman I’ve ever met and even her granddaughters admitted as much, but as I learned a little more about her story, it all started to make sense. She lost her husband early in their marriage during WWII and never remarried. One afternoon I was driving out in the country and the song came on. I listened to the first verse and the chorus without batting an eye. But when it got to the second verse it hit me.

    I know a woman became a wife

    These are the very words she uses to describe her life

    She said, “A good day ain’t got no rain”

    She said, “A bad day’s when I lie in bed

    And think of things that might have been”

    As I began to reflect on the lyrics after she had passed, it hit me. Later, I wrote about that moment: “I have always taken that part to be about a lonely wife unsatisfied with her marriage but in that moment, those lines spoke differently to me. I imagined all of the memories and emotion she must have lived through daily; images of a young couple in the 1940’s and their desperate love caught up such in a turbulent time; images of him heroically dying for his country somewhere in the South Pacific; images of her falling to her knees after being told of his death. Yes it was long ago, and yes she was able to move on and create an amazing life for her daughter and eventually her granddaughters, but those memories were still there, underneath the surface of all of that, seemingly eating away at her daily.” I concluded: “Honestly, I don’t know if we ever get over anything. We move on and we cope, but the pain of loss is always there just waiting at a moment’s notice. I’ve heard some sad love stories in my lifetime, but for some reason the one I’ve had to imagine has stayed with me to this day.”

    For me, when I listen to this song, yes it reminds me of how bad things could be and that makes me stop and think, but more importantly, it reminds me how good I’ve really got it. Sure, I’ve gone through things but comparatively? I don’t have anything to complain about. In fact, I need to be thankful for what I’ve had and what I’ve still got each and every day. 

    That’s why the Greeks liked Tragedy so much. Not because they were masochistic, but because it reminded them how good they had it and to be thankful for every day that was “slip sliding away” whether they wanted it to or not. Like Paul Simeon said, “We work our jobs, collect our pay, believe we’re gliding down the highway when in fact we’re slip sliding away.”

    That fact is inevitable. What is not, is the ability to recognize that and value each and every moment before they are gone. It’s all about a mindset and I’m thankful for the people in my life who have taught me that.

  • Themes, part 3

    I’m a little weird academically because in a lot of ways I am very traditional but in others, I’m probably a little profane. The other night we went and saw comedian John Crist who had a bit in his show where he talked about having “these thoughts that just pop in out of nowhere.” He gave some funny examples and as we were laughing my wife leaned over and said ‘you do that all the time.” I couldn’t deny it because it’s true. I like trying to think for myself and have no problem asking questions most English teachers wouldn’t. For example, take The Great Gatsby. It’s an amazing work or art and not even his best if you ask me. But if you’ve ever had to study it, inevitably, you came to the discussion about the green light Gatsby sees off in the distance. Much has (deservedly so) been made about that light and what it represents. For me though, I remember thinking “what if the city got a really good deal on green bulbs that year? What if we are making way too much out of this?” I mean, if it had been red, what would we be saying? I’ve always wondered about greatness in the literary world. How much of it is intended and how much is what we make it out to be? I know…I’m not supposed to have those kinds of thoughts but I do. 

    Writing the book If We Never Meet Again was a very interesting experience for me. I can honestly say that there are things I planned and things that just kind of developed as it went. And in retrospect, I do love how it all came together. Honestly, it all started out of me telling stories about the people I encountered in hospice, but as the book began to take shape and grow, it became so much more for me. And the weird thing is how things just fell into place as if they were part of a greater plan all along. There are many things about the book that I love, but the first and biggest hint toward what I feel is a primary theme of the novel is the cover. I even had to fight for it and I’m glad I did because for me, it would be a very different book without that cover.

    On January 6, 2020, at exactly 7:10 am, I took that photo on my phone at Huntington Beach State Park (a little south of Murrells Inlet). That was my first official day of work in the world of hospice. I was staying with my in-laws (we wouldn’t officially move to the area until February 1), got up early before heading to the office, watched the sunrise, and took the photo. I loved it so much, my wife had it enlarged into a canvas that we have in our bedroom. When it came time to design the book cover, I was adamant that it had to be that picture. Initially, my publisher said no because it didn’t have a high enough quality (dpi) to be the cover. They assured me that they could find a similar stock photo but I said nope, did some quick research, and found a site that allowed me to increase the picture quality. I sent them the new version, they said it looked good, and I got what I wanted. 

    Why was it so important? First of all, it’s a sunrise and not a sunset. If it had been the sunset, it would be something totally different. And to be honest, it would have worked given the stories. Perhaps a sunset could have represented our patients and their passing. But that’s not what I intended. I have always said that it’s not a book about death. Yes, that happens a lot in my book but that’s not the focus. For me, the focus is the lives they lived in their final moments and the lessons that they each taught me. I state this pretty clearly at the end:

    “Each of the people on these pages have impacted me in their own unique ways and I will never forget them. While I may have had to change their names and certain identifying characteristics, they are forever imprinted on my soul and have remade me into who I am today. As Dylan once said “He not busy being born is busy dying.” I always liked that line but now I think I finally get it. That’s what this entire experience has been for me (135).” 

    After all, my book is a memoir about the experiences I had and the lessons I learned from the individuals I met in the world of hospice. For me, the book is all about my own “journey of becoming” and rebirth. Yes, the sun eventually sets. But my hope is that the inevitable sunset will always inspire a new sunrise in each of us the way my patients did for me. But that’s only my take on it. And don’t for a second think that I haven’t wondered what if I had got up late that morning and never taken that picture. We would be having a totally different discussion now wouldn’t we?