It's difficult to understand the sum of a person's life. Some people would tell you it's measured by the ones left behind. Some believe it can be measured in faith. Some say by love. Other folks say life has no meaning at all. Me? I believe that you measure yourself by the people who measure themselves by you.
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-I always meant to go back. But 45 years goes by pretty fast.
-Like smoke through a key hole.
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Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.
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I'm prepared for my husband to die. I'm just not prepared to lose him while he's still alive.
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And for the first time in 40 years I looked at Virginia without all the noise, without all the distractions. And I couldn't remember what it felt like when I could not walk down the street without holding her hand. I mean, she was the same woman I fell in love with. She hadn't changed. But somehow everything was different. We'd lost something along the way, you know?
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-You know, the ancient egyptians had a beautiful belief about death. When their souls got to the entrance to Heaven , the gods asked them two questions. Their answers determined whether they were admitted or not.
-Ok, I'll bite. What were they?
-Have you found joy in your life?
-Aha...
-Answer the question!
-Me?
-Yeah!
-Answer the question? Have I found joy in my life? Yes!
-Has your life brought joy to others?
-Ooo, stupid question... I don't know, I don't think about how other people gage. Ask them!
-I'm asking you.
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-I'll be here when you get back.
-Sounds good to me.
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Dear Edward, I've gone back and forth the last few days trying to decide whether or not I should even write this. In the end I realized I would regret it if I didn't. So... Here it goes. I know the last time we saw each other we weren't exactly hitting the sweetest notes. Certainly it wasn't the way I wanted the trip to end. I suppose I'm responsible and for that I'm sorry. But in all honesty, if I had the chance I'd do it again. Virginia said I left a stranger and came back a husband. I owe that to you. There's no way I can repay you for all you've done for me. So rather than trying, I'm going to ask you to do something else for me. Find the joy in your life. You once said you're not everyone. Well, that's true, you're certainly not everyone. But everyone is everyone. My pastor always says our lives are streams flowing into the same river towards whatever heaven lies in the mist beyond the falls. Find the joy in your life, Edward. My dear friend, close your eyes and let the waters take you home.
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Even now I can't claim to understand the measure of a life. But I can tell you this: I know that when he died his eyes were closed and his heart was open. And I'm pretty sure he was happy with his final resting place because he was buried on a mountain and that was against the law.
