All you can know for sure is that time passes. The herbal stand blooms. The wind peels away its petals and drops them onto the surface of the pond waiting below.
As they drift aimlessly, the fish look up. They know this isn't food.
The sun looks down.
The camera clicks.
A friend's husband has cancer, and it sounds bad, very bad. It's the aggressive kind.
You think back over decades about the ways in which this friend has helped you and you have helped her.
You remember her joy at finally finding a good man when they'd both reached an age where this kind of love story seemed impossible.
But, for them, it happened.
For a while, all seemed possible. They both have been in fantastic shape for their ages, which are measured by the scores, not the decades.
Still, time catches up with us all. You remember moments, when you all mixed happily. You and your partner and she with hers. There was an ethnic, national, and cultural parallel in your choices.
Your choice turned out to be a fool's choice. Hers turned out to be about true love.
Now she faces the prospect of all too soon losing her husband forever.
By contrast, you have no one like that left to lose. That's because she chose wisely and you did not. All is in balance in the end. So your heart goes out to her, for that is the greater loss, the loss of love shared compared to love imagined, but never shared at all.
For the former, memories worth sharing.
For the latter, only silence, and the utter lack of any meaning whatsoever.
The again, friendships endure. Imposters disappear. And God is watching.
-30-
1 comment:
Sorry to hear of your friend's husband. Words are very inadequate at times like this. You have done well with your words.
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