faith, flotsam


Elegy (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was talking to one of my MANY friends with April birthdays the other day.

He’s still just a youngster, but was getting down, ostensibly about his age.

(Dude. Shut up. I’m older than you! I mean, granted, not by much…)

I offered to let him pretend to be 10 years younger for the day, if he’d like. 

No; that was a really bad year, he told me. 

Not meanly, but seriously.

And then I realized that he lost his sister that year, 10 years ago.

And I thought about the way I love my sister, and about the way I miss her voice sometimes just because it’s been a while, and about the way just the idea of losing her makes my heart feel tight and sore.

And I then realized how often I talk about her and her kids, blithely and happily and thoughtlessly… Because they are so dear to me, and I do enjoy them… as I should.

But forgetting that every time I do that, for him it might feel like death by papercuts.
And he never says a word.

And I realized that the one thing he’d really have loved for his birthday is one thing I can’t give him… the chance to talk to his sister one more time.

Lord have mercy.

2 thoughts on “Melancholia”

  1. Death by papercuts. That would hurt more than anything else. Although it sounds like your friend is already feeling quite a bit of pain.

    At least he’s cool because of his April birthday!


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