IN THE END

Years ago, many years ago now, I sat on a plane with a certain elderly woman in the seat beside me. I remember our exchange as if she were at my side now. I was young(ish) and I was mad in love. And I couldn’t help myself talk about my man. Spew off, really. I wanted to write him a card. Because that’s what I do. I write. And at that time, he was my recipient. I wrote that man not dozens, not hundreds, but thousands... thousands I recon, of cards. Of notes. Of letters. So, how better to spend airtime then, than to compose prose, I thought. A love letter. I turned to her. I expected perhaps she would engage me in quotable conversation about the ins and outs of love. Something I could write to him, put to paper and seal with a kiss. How selfish of me. How immature. How disrespectful. To engage with a human being, with a soul, only to take it from them… for my own purposes, to give to someone else. I inquired about love and she gave me a smile. That was all. She said she was sure I’d find the right words. My own words. And then she fell silent. I stared ahead, in truth watching her lap from a perephiral view. A brief moment later she began to fidget until her right hand fingers found their resting place. Their destination touch stone. There was no stone actually. Just a band of gold encircling an aged finger, not tanned but stained with days, and underneath the band, perfect clear veiled skin. Virgin skin. The skin of a young woman whose dreams were yet ahead of her. Now, either fulfilled or shattered, her dreams lay behind her. I saw her face, her body, and it told me that it is no longer dreams but memories she lives for. She misses her husband, the ring told me that. Their love remains with her, the instinctive tender touch told me that. But it was what she didn't tell me, didn't presume to tell me, that spoke the loudest. You cannot tell someone how it is going to be or even how it should be. At the end of the day, each day, what matters is not if you had a dream come true but if you made good memories to hold onto.