Heart of Gold

Before a single word was sung, I was already there. Overwhelmed with sorrow, walking down that red carpeted isle. I couldn't remember if it was in front of me, or behind. You put your arm around me, and told me to "be strong". This was the most affection you've ever shown me, and perhaps the only affection. It felt good, even though I had never been so sad.

I shake myself out of this moment, back to reality, but I'm drawn back in because I have to remember. I force myself to walk the isle again, I have to know, was he in front or behind me. I remember now, the procession was in front. I followed. I couldn't take it. At the end of the isle, we saw him for the last time. I won't ever allow myself to forget that day. I just wish that, in our last memory of him, that he would have been standing. I know you wish the same.

I find it truly fascinating how life can take such sharp turns at such high speeds. How did I get here? I ask that question often, perhaps because I keep moving. I think I fall in to the trap of trying to make sense of my present by analyzing the path of my past. The problem is that the path only exists when you look backwards. As we move, we are ever laying new pieces of path behind us, but in looking forward we see no path. It is said that the past works only by addition, because the only function you can do to it is add. But there is a million functions for the future, because nothing is fixed. However, despite how random life is, momentum seems to persist.

It's like driving in a car on the highway, and car starts accelerating and then maintains a speed of about 200km/hour, then after a few minutes slows back down to 100. The reduced speed feels painfully slow, it feels as if you could step out of the vehicle and walk beside it. Life is mundane, seemingly pointless, without progress. It only takes one moment, one crash, and life stops. In only takes one moment to see how delicate life is, and how powerful its motion.

So ten years later, I look back at the ground I've covered. Many painful turns were taken to get here... none as painful as that one. It's that one turn that brings us back to that "heart of gold". Will we ever find it, or more importantly, will our hearts ever compare to his. Ten years later I think about your words, telling me to "be strong," and what that really means. Over the years, I've learned a few things, and I can only hope that you will learn them too. I've learned that being stereotypically "strong", looks more like becoming hard, and takes very little strength at all. You don't need to be strong to protect yourself, you need to be strong to stay true to yourself and let people in. Being strong is to allowing oneself to be weak and vulnerable, and it is required to love and give. When true love reveals itself, it is in ones capacity to be weak that will determine the strength of the bond. This is where my strength is tested, and I cannot be certain, but I'm pretty sure that this is the only way a "heart of gold" can reveal itself.