Life moves on....

“And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?”
He said that a lifetime ago, so casually and carelessly…

I told him: “Wow, where is that from?”
He replied with sudden seriousness in his posture: “Does it need to be from anywhere to make it more or less true for a person?”….

…..

It was the first time that I saw the face of a “loss”. I was too young to process the reason and too old to EVER forget the pain. It was the first time that I saw with my own eyes, it is not a myth when one’s hair becomes ALL white just over a night. It was the first time that I saw life can be so unfair. The unfairness was no longer in the books or the media or even the stories of the neighborhood…the unfairness hit unexpectedly, out of absolute no where. It was the first time in my life that I wondered about the big question of all: “and what is the lesson in this one? Does she need any more lessons after this?”

I saw her stunningly beautiful face collapsed under the unbearable heaviness of the pain. She stopped all the clocks, cut off the telephone line and let her life stops for eternity. For her the stars did not blink any more, the moon and the sun disappeared forever. For me, she being still alive is the unfairness of all….Death can be such a mercy sometimes….

It was the first time that I understood what did Auden meant by:
“He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest…”

Eventually for all his friends, life did move on. Surprisingly the force of life is stronger for youth. We carried his torch as much as we could. We, his “soul – brothers” and “soul – sisters”, flew away in different directions…each had our own cross to carry…as that is the definition of life. We experienced the bliss and sorrow of life, each in our own way and we continue to experience that in our daily routine of life.

I grew up so much in the years that followed. I aged beyond my years not by passing of time but by my experiences in life….I hit the bottom of my abyss and felt so many times life is not worth living even for another single breath…and I flew high on the wings of the most profound bliss and thanked all Gods in the universe for being alive just to experience those moments…..and like most of the people, most of the time I lead a simple life in between those extremes.

We lived and she lived "HIS" life through each and every one of us. She became our surrogate mother and our children became her grandchildren, the children of the one that she will never have…

…..

I called her yesterday… we both knew it is few days earlier than THE day. We talked; we even laughed…a progress for this time of the year…a progress that comes only when so many years are passed.

I could smell the familiar aroma, hear the familiar sounds, and watch the passing of the familiar autumn day from her window…that friendly window that I miss so much....

I could see the familiar pain…so far away and yet I could reach and touch her pain.

The pain that did not become less, no matter how long is passed…
The pain that is intensified by the hundred echoes of the memories…
The pain that is prolonged with the imagination of the life that could have been….that should have been…
The pain that only became more hidden by passing of a time that feels like an eternity…

And “That” pain is heavier than ever for me, “HER” pain that I feel more than before since I experienced “the heart of a mother”….

“There is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one’s own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels WITH someone…”
My thoughts flew away: where did I read this? I wondered….

And then his words, echoed in time “no matter where it is from, nothing makes it more or less true for one person”…I swear I heard the ringing of his laughter….

You were so right my dear friend; No one ever reads a book. He reads himself through books, either to discover or to control himself..…I smiled….

We were saying our usual goodbyes…don’t worry for me, I love you, I miss you…

And then her sudden seriousness, the mirror of that other familiar soul: “Promise you will take care of yourself, you have no idea how precious your life is for me”…and then her whisper in the phone: “Wish you were here...”

The silence that is pregnant with all the things that she wanted to say...

I said with hidden tears in my voice: “You will remember my flowers for him, won’t you?”
And her reply: “Always!”