I slipped into the church and slid into the pew. Another funeral.
My friend’s family followed the casket, cloaked now by a white pall with a cross on top. While we cried, our pastor spoke. Relationships, as we know them and like them to be, end in only two ways: “By choice,” he said, “or in death.”
This means relationships end, but it also means they don’t. It means to cross paths and connect is to create an association so fragile it can end because we say so, or one so durable it can’t conclude without a flatline.
Another mystery.
We are powerful and powerless.