Our Dues

“What about the friends I had back then, when I was younger?  I’m afraid, has the flood taken them away?”
I stroked her small back as she lay in bed amongst the sheets and covers.  All was quiet in the dim light of the room for a time.  How can one explain?  How do we know anything about the thousands who go by our own lives, through our own hands and heart every passing year.
I looked down at her, the dark eyes peering not at me but toward the windows in the corner, covered over by pink curtains.
I looked there too.
“Sometimes, all we can do is meditate and pray over the ones we love but no longer know where they may be.  There is a saying that goes: ‘the price of love is grief’.  If we have compassion, and care, and love one another… we eventually encounter sadness.  It’s unavoidable, even to those that always seem to see the best in things and are often very happy.  It’s the way the world is.  But, another saying: ’tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’.”
I paused and looked down at her, her eyes still searching the pink curtains in the corner.  I reached up and brushed back her hair from around her ear with all fingers outstretched.  Then went back to slowly stroking her back.
“We’re better in the long run loving.  Maybe they will never know, but maybe they think of us too.  Maybe there, they will find our prayers and meditations for them and be comforted.”
She closed her eyes.
“I wish I had a better answer for you.”, I told her.  “Did I help at all?”
“Yes, it did.  Thank you.”
I leaned down and kissed her warm temple along the wispy hairline.
“Goodnight.  I love you, honey.”
“Goodnight.”, she said.  “I love you, too.”