Saturday, March 21, 2015

Tune Up

The letter was heart-wrenching. Of course I had never known him. She had been gone for less than a year. Cancer. The yellowing, crumbling, crude plea was a desperate attempt to deliver one final message of undying love. The love that overshadows everything else in a life. Apparently a fight or a series of fights ended the romance and the two had been separated by geography and circumstances. She had raised a child, a daughter, not his. He had served in the air force. I guess she had that- the knowledge that someone had loved her truly. Completely. The letter implied that he might not have been good at it. It appeared that he never knew that she had gotten the message. Maybe it never mattered.

Well, I have loved truly. Completely. I've never claimed to be good at it. It isn't important for me to know that my message is received. It could be a good source of derision, a joke shared with new lovers, friends. I suppose I would be lying if I said that I don't care. I can say, though, that it doesn't matter.

You do your best. Sometimes it's not good enough. Life happens. You have memories. You have love.

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