Totally immersed within the heaviness of her repentant thoughts, I found myself sadly gazing deeper into her eyes. Suddenly noticing a twinkling gleam in her fading glare, shrinking like wilting flames, I immediately became unnerved. Mindful of a fading light of hope, it reminded me of loves faltering flame of dying passion, as it flickers into a small glimmer of nothing.
Quietly moaning in a spiritual anguish as her soul’s reflection reached out and engaged that of my own, in a passing moment I felt her sorrow as it resonated throughout my body. For a second time I called out to her. But it was to no avail.
‘Its going to be okay…’ I whispered.
‘No. Not this time.’ She replied in a fainting tone, before adding. ‘No, it isn’t…I’ve just lost my source of life. I think this is it. Tell my baby Amy I love her. She has always been my little precious. And you. My dear daughter…you are the best of a best friend I could have ever wished for. Thanks for everything. I love you so much for what you’ve done. You will one day see the fruits of your labor. That I’m sure of…very sure.’
Those were the last words she said to me as I watched her die right before my eyes. It was less than seven hours after my father had past. After that I was fully convinced they had suffered through more than anyone I’ve ever known, or would come to know in my lifetime. I’ve learned love is far more painful than it is rewarding. But it is the faithful at heart that sees its true blessings.
Shakespeare, as astute and skilled as he was at assessing human nature, had it right when he defined his plays as tragedies. For years I’ve wondered how could something so spiritually beautiful, come and depart at such a gravely cost.
But then I’ve also realized when you offer up your heart. Or when love chooses it for one of its own, how could you ever want for anything different. Much less, how could you even deny what the heart is capable of receiving outside of your will?
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