This house is awash with bittersweet booby-traps.
I was rummaging around in one my drawers this afternoon, looking for a lost frequent flyer card.
I didn’t find what I was looking for. What I did find was this card she gave me on our 19th wedding anniversary over ten years ago.
On the front:Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s destiny.
All I know is that your love is the best thing that ever happened to me.
I read the card and said aloud “and your love was definitely the best thing that ever happened to me”.
And then I looked at the time on the clock and realized it was exactly 13 weeks- 91 days- since she passed.
How did she do that!? One last flourish as the magician’s assistant leaves the theater…
Luck or destiny. So many things about our relationship hinged on unlikely coincidences. There were many times that, skeptic though I am, I wondered if we weren’t meant to be together for some reason. I keep reminding myself that in a universe governed by quantum mechanics, anything literally is possible, but still…
Whichever it was, we found each other in time to do all the things she said she wanted, a whole life packed into half a lifetime. Fate dealt her a rummy hand, but she made the most of it, and I got to be right there with her. Should I be angry at the fates for the raw deal, or grateful we could have the time we did?- barely enough, but still never enough.
Our fate was to find each other, so now mine is to be left alone as the curtain falls, still at midlife, wondering: Now what?
Both the problem and the joy of working without a script is that you just never know what’s going to happen until it’s already happened. That was one hell of an Act One, but how do you follow that? I’ve seen a lot of plays with terrific first acts and weak seconds. I hope this isn’t one of them. I’m beginning to get anxious for intermission to be over so I can find out.