I woke up crying this morning
AmsterdanI woke up crying this morning,
An echo of the sobbing I had just fallen into in my dream.
I remember it clearly.
It was me walking along in some back yard
Thinking about when I was 30, about the feelings of hope and happiness
And how those feelings had become lost,
Like a box of treasures during some house moving.
It was not so much that they didn’t materialize, those hopes,
They did. They came true in the person of a beautiful daughter.
We lived her life for 17 years, then gave her up to
What would become her own life
Which has gone on without us.
And I too have gone on.
I have a new life, too. One more of many.
This new life, too, has its feelings of hope and happiness
And I will make those come true.
Then at some point those feelings will be lost
In a radical passing that destroys my body
And brings a new adventure.
A few others will cry. Three will sob.
But in my dream, I was thinking about
My companion back in those old days,
Those days about which I was sobbing in my dream,
My companion who had been young and cute
Who had shared the feelings of hope and happiness,
She, too, lived our daughter’s life for 17 years,
But when we gave her up to her own life
My companion’s life did not go on.
She retired, died, almost. Nothing could stop it.
A combination of choice and destiny.
And as she died to the world, I died to her, too.
So I went on. She did not.
She occupies her old body, this morning,
In her old house, with her old thoughts.
She probably wakes up crying
More than once.
It is not tragedy.
It is the human condition.
It cannot be fixed, only dealt with.
I rarely cry about it, just face it daily with determination and hope,
Except this morning.
posted by DanZ @ 8:54 PM
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