When I met with some friends from out-of-state on Sunday we were discussing someone else who had chosen a life path that was not permitting her to live up to her full potential. She had such promise, such talent, and now she was consigned to the role of subservient housewife. "She's still alive," I said, suggesting that her future pathways had not yet closed. "She's not dead yet."
What I think is one of my best pieces of writing is something you will probably never read. It was an attempt to persuade someone to do something, or rather to stop doing something. It was a one-shot deal, so I knew I had to throw everything I had into it. It was literally a matter of life or death.
Did it work? I don't know. The person to whom it was written did not stop doing what she was doing. But in her subsequent messages I sensed an element of doubt, a realization that maybe she was on the wrong path. Did I do that? Did I plant a seed of doubt that had taken root? I have no idea. And whether or not I did doesn't matter as much as whether or not she is still alive a month, a year, a decade from now.
Now I see that another friend finds herself on the precipice of making a horrible mistake. What is the mistake? I have no idea.
But there are mistakes, and there are mistakes. Some errors are irredeemable. Most are not.
It's trite and naive to say "Where there's life, there's hope." Anyone who has ever dealt with mold in their basement will attest to that.
But as long as you are still alive, as long as you are not dead yet...well, that's something.
Waning gibbous, February 20, 2022, 3:45 AM
2 years ago
1 comment:
Harold, I loved this blog. I am going to print it out for my sister. The heat bothers her MS so she is very down this past month. Maybe this will cheer her up. How do you cheer up a beautiful 40 year old who has been in a wheelchair for longer than they care to remember?
Can any of you eloquent bloggers help me there?
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