April 29, 2011
A year ago we said goodbye, but did not know it was forever. A year ago we danced and made love but did not know it was the last time. And a year ago you were my wife and I your husband, until death parted us. Parted as only death could. And with Time’s cold and unceasing passing the echoes of grief ripple through, vibrating in my soul. The fabric of our time rent, I am tugged forward by Time.
Time: Merciless, compassionless, loveless. Without hate, sadness, and joy.
We talk of the mystery of life and why we are here and what is our purpose. There are moments when I push against the membrane of understanding, too opaque to see through, and feel close to clarity; of knowing some truth. I lower my shoulder and lean into the membrane, then slip, lose my balance and fall. I wonder if you now know some truth only knowable after passing through that membrane.
Fate selected us to experience death younger than many, but not all. I have brief moments when I nearly understand this beyond the unfairness and see that we were selected to go near the front of the line. You to the beyond and me to, well, to live on without you. Was it for some reason?
Meanwhile, I go on searching…