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| Tappan Zee Bridge (M.A. Reilly, 2011) |
I.
Beyond the restaurant's windows, the Hudson River flows and the light falling is nothing less than perfect. It is an unusually warm afternoon given that it is still winter, and Jane and I sit at a table for two. I listen as she explains she has learned to be satisfied with partial answers, to be satisfied with the answers she has. These are important words, ones so critical that I ask her to repeat them and even now, I feel certain that I have forgotten the arrangement of sounds and syllables.
It has been the longest year.
II.
Awhile later we are outside walking by the river and we past a man, one who seems to be about the age Rob was when he died and this man asks quite boisterously if we are having a good day. He says this as he exhales smoke and I think how is it my husband who did not smoke is dead a year from lung cancer and this man who smokes is not?
The hardest thing to learn after the death is that there are no comforting answers to the question, Why Rob? Why him? Why?
Maybe we have to stop asking the questions sometimes. I'm not sure. I don't know. Is this considered denial? This lack of question asking. Maybe, but protection has it's values as well. I miss the Hudson River.
ReplyDeleteI think we dance with partial answers. Maybe, adding on to what Kimberley said, we set them aside for awhile. Your journey is long and insightful dealing with what most of us ignore. Maybe, for protection.
ReplyDeleteIt's never about the answers, partial or otherwise. The question is the answer, and the right questions are the right answers.
ReplyDeleteMary Ann, it is difficult to find answers to complex questions, especially when we so desperately want them. Peace to you as you search.
ReplyDelete