So Much is Lost, So Quickly

by Rebecca Hill

All my stories are ruined. Well, not all, but it seems a large percentage of my favorite tales of community life include people who are no longer here, who are consumed with contempt for this way of life. "Hey, remember the time Daniel..." my voice trails off. It isn't funny anymore.

This must be what it is like to be divorced. All the songs you used to love, you turn off the radio before your memories come flooding back, too painful and real to entertain. All your happy memories flawed now. My wedding pictures, my testimony, my life here.

I picture a photo album with some of the pictures cut out, ghostly spaces with ragged edges standing next to smiling happy people. How did we get here?

And I think of my once dear friend, alone in her apartment, having turned her back on everything she ever loved, watching her daughters play, waiting for her husband to come home from work, all alone, no one to sit with who remembers. Does she think about our times together, laughing until it hurt, staying up way to late watching movies, crying because her latest crush liked someone else instead? I look at the little card she gave me when my son was born, that said,"Welcome to the jungle little tiger." Do I peel it away from where it is pasted to the pages of his baby book? Will I leave it there, and tell him about this lady who cried with joy when he was born, who might not speak to us if we passed her on the street?

We can argue forever, using clever words to defend our positions. The reality is our hearts are broken. Bitterness has come in and destroyed our friendships, and tainted our memories. So much is lost, so quickly. All I can do is guard my heart, and not let callouses grow. And pray for my friend. I hope she has someone to sit with today, in her sunny little apartment. I hope she's not alone.

-Rebecca Hill