“I heard someone say you’re still pretty then they went on to say the pearly gates had some eloquent graffiti like ‘we’ll meet again’, and ‘f@#* the man’, and ‘tell my mother not to worry.’” Samuel Beam
I remember letting go. I remember saying “this is okay” and “I will see you soon.” Then when they left I cried.
It doesn’t take something as strong as death to have to move on from another person, but death certainly brings all of us to the place when we have to release the grasp of another person’s hand.
In this life, I often wonder where they went…..those people I no longer hold. I think the place must be good or I would never have let go. I often wonder though if I can justify this; if telling them to leave was the right thing and if I was not wrong when I did not say “stay.”
When we are asleep we lock fingers if we are with another. I think it is so they don’t drift away. I do not know, however. One cannot make a good assessment from rare experiences.
I do know it is a short time in this place. I know more often than not leaving is a thing thrust upon us rather than done by choice. Our only choice is to lock fingers while we can.
Image: Creative Commons, Abe Kleinfeld