in your loving arms

For a couple of weeks now, I had been contemplating about the end.  

Death.  

Perhaps... about how fleeting life is.  

And how I tend to take it for granted, living.

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A meeting with a friend got cancelled last minute yesterday, she needed to go to a funeral.  Someone close to her who had been battling a disease for more than six month, lost.    

I do not fool myself thinking my words would take the pain away.  Unlike time--to a certain extent.  Still, it was to hoping that our exchange somehow gave her something, no matter how seemingly insignificant.  

Something.

The end, even when 'expected' still catch people by surprise, at least for me.  It is as if hoping for, in brief moments--expecting a miracle.  That at the last minute, the guiding hand would grant a big bonus.  

Of course, this is dreaming.  Dreaming for life where there is no pain and nobody leaves.  A world that is quite obviously, not this one.

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It was a Wednesday when a good friend got in touch with me to tell me about her loss.

Up to this moment, I still feel her pain.  Choking a little.

Maybe, it is because to some extent I felt the happiness from the short life they spent together.

The end... it takes us back to the beginning.  It allows us to see the wonder at the middle, the small joys that easily get lost in between one day and the next.

It bookmarks meaningful passages and perfect-imperfect moments.  Experiences that define human relationships.  Expressions of love.   

There are times when the best and hardest thing to do is to do nothing.  For now I choose to do that, to be there for her through the act of prayer.  She knows.  I wait.

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Yesterday, as I was playing a song to my husband and I walked up to him so he could take me in his arms.

I stayed there quietly, being held by him.

My head against his beating heart.

Grateful.