I have always been uneasy with goodbyes. Farewells always leave pangs of pain and discomfort. But it seems that life has decided to serve a few of these entrees that I am not about ready to take. I needed a serving of grace and the heavens obliged too long…
I lost my grandmother. For about a year, I silently mourned. I stormed heavens with musings that bordered rebellion and disbelief. Grace may have descended late but it forced me to silence and to listen. And I listened well…
I did not ask for another helping but the heavens seemed so kind to serve another one.
Though the serving was not a mortal end, I still find it hard to accept. And I was not able to say goodbye.
Through my journeys, I met many people along the way. Some of them became good friends who traveled and accompanied me in the track I chose to tread. Through the tempests and the rough roads they made my journey easy, bearable and worthwhile. They let me wallowed in their individualities and enveloped me with the warmth of their being. In doing so, they enriched my experience and widened my appreciation of life’s daily joys.
I always thought that I could be with them all throughout the journey. I became too fond of making the mistake of thinking that they would always take the bend on the road with me. But not far from the bend there is always a crossroad. Then I would slowly and agonizingly realize that each of us has a path to take. Each of us would always remain separate despite being together. Each of us hears a different beat and we march to that music within us.
I think that I am an important player in the giant orchestra of life. As important as everybody, I must play my own solo piece in taking my path at the crossroad. We are bound to take our own roads where the music leads us. Although we part, we can’t really say goodbye for when we come to life’s full circle, we will meet again.
I cannot and will not forget them. Though they have left, something beautiful remains – the music we played together still echoes in sweet refrains.
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