Life's beautiful when it truly happens. The poetic irony. The better job that appears just when despair is thinking of leasing a room. That wonderful pet adopted when it just showed up after the loss of another. The unexpected opportunity, the surprise windfall, the fortuitous, the serendipitous. The fruit falls from the tree, ripe and ready. A gift.
And there you are again. After the disappointment, the discouragement, the adjustment--she enters. Beautiful, blissful, artistic, funny, loves what you love, prefers what you prefer, shares your interests, wakes you up in mornings, rings you unlimited times, texts you to track your every moment, interrogates you about your meal, gives you reminders for all your to do list items and finds she is the best in all forms and ways, teaches you that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and grief is the door and as long it is closed, it is the barrier between knowing and not knowing. walk away from it, it stays closed forever. but open it, walk through it, and the pain becomes truth...She is my aai. A gift.
Life proceeds apace, one day at a time, and we find hope lives, even knowing what could happen, but also knowing what could finally happen. People come and people leave. That elusive "one," that small subset of the population, grows in your land.
And so, not knowing, yet knowing, we truly Live...i truly Live..because of my aai. A gift.
