Tomorrow

I was thinking about Jonathan a lot today, sitting in the woods and trying to hear his voice; later a line came into my head: "if you don't come to my party tomorrow, this is the last thing I'm ever going to invite you to".

It's true- but I don't know if Jonathan would have ever really said that. I don't think I really knew him so well that I could say what he might really say if he were here. I think he would be making a joke- but I'll be there. I think he would dance at my memorial service if he could.

What did occur to me today, in the woods, is that every day that we have is one more day than we were promised. When we give our children life, we also give them death- but they, and we, change the world forever by their, by our, existence and it is sweet beyond words- and sad, too, but I, for one, am very grateful to have known Jonathan for the relatively short time that I did. I am so grateful that he walked this earth for each of the days that formed him into the person that he was.

It also occurred to me that we kind of have to accept the past or live in it forever; we can't really accept the future because we aren't there yet, it has not been given to us, so we don't really have to worry about accepting or rejecting it. We probably have to try to accept the present moment, as best we can, or this gift of life that was given to Jonathan for 38 years will have been wasted on us. I'm not there yet, at "acceptance", but I will be one day. In the meantime, I'll be there tomorrow and I will dance as best I can.