SHORT AND SWEET
Seventeen seems like yesterday and then like some long-ago story of a life that has nothing to do with me.
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Of all the girls in my high school class, I felt I was the one most naïve. My junior year, I finally had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of weeks. This young man was raised by his father and one day he decided the two of us should meet. After an awkward half hour conversation, we got up to leave. “Short and sweet,” his daddy whispered. I mistakenly believed he was sarcastically remarking about me—
I was anything but “short” at 5’ 10,” so it stood to reason that I believed he considered me anything but “sweet.”
It’s been years since I stood in that boy’s living room, but never more than now have I lived the true meaning of those whispered words:
Life is fleeting, its moments tender and often overwhelmingly profound.
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I am boarding a plane this morning, flying over three states. California is my target,
San Diego to be more exact.
This is where I will say goodbye to my thirty-year friend. He and I will be surrounded by so many people we love—
Me, seated on a wooden pew. Him, in a handsome steel urn.
Three decades went by just like that. It’s hard to believe we’ve arrived at this time and place. But I study the woman in the mirror, and I observe the evidence.
That girl has lived a life she never expected.
And I mean that in a really good way.
Surprisingly, I’m feeling a little vulnerable, in anticipation of being with those who haven’t seen me since I lost all my hair. I am keenly aware that I will be the one “still standing,” the one whose prognosis was so very close to my friend’s.
I wish the timing could be just a little different, that I could write of the coming experience after the fact—
Me, folded into the arms of friends I have deeply missed,
Us, lovingly sending him on his way.
Only thirty-six hours to pack all the love in.
Fast. And furious.
Short. And sweet.
This is the scripted version of every reality. The impossibility of time marching is ours to bear, to embrace.
What will you do with your time remaining?
Celebrate? Marvel?
Procrastinate? Sleep?
Short. And sweet.
A phrase that has shadowed me through all these extraordinary lifetimes.
An unintentional prophesy spoken over an idealistic girl.
That idealism has not faltered—it has grown, blossomed, matured.
This girl with so much to live for…may it be even a morsel of what my friend is experiencing now. Revelation 14: 9-11
NOTES:
I have written of attending funerals. I can’t think of anything more difficult…or more essential to do. This one is special. This one I fought hard for…PRAYED hard for.
There is no answer to the “why.” Only this constant reminder that life is short no matter what the circumstance of your life.
But never forget the second part of the equation…
Life is just so sweet.
Enjoy this sweet reminder of Keith:
Up Ahead
ABOUT THE IMAGE: Just a little glimpse into the many versions of me.