Friday, March 24, 2006

Part 19

It’s hard to say how she managed to get through those last few months-the ones she foolishly held onto with the secret hope of his return. She wandered a lot, walking aimlessly through life, fluttering numbly from place to place, person to person, hoping that something would make her feel again.

But with her broken heart and shattered pride, what mattered most was that she kept walking.

Hours turned to days, and they grew to weeks, and still, she kept on walking.

Her heart said, “Stop”. Her spirit said, “Don’t you dare”.

And one day, she remembered a poem he had given her on one of his visits to Massachusetts. And it made her feel.

“After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,
and company doesn’t mean security.

And you learn that kisses aren’t contracts,
And presents aren’t promises,
And you being to accept your defeats,
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn, that even sunshine burns if
you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong…
That you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn…”*

She remembered the day he gave it to her clearly. He just arrived from Florida and they sat in her dorm room, planning their short weekend. With a sheepish grin on his face, he turned to her and handed her a “barf bag” from the plane. On the back he was his hand written copy of a poem he knew she would love.

Little did she know that the goodbyes in the poem would be from him, and that she really could endure, and that she really was strong, and she really did have worth.

And with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, she kept on walking…


*Poem by Veronica A. Storffstall