The Writing Never Ends

Life is a communal hallway with a revolving door.

We enter the world, share the same space for a while, and then take our leave of it.

When the people you share your personal space with - the people you love most in the world - exit before you, this communal hallway becomes a less hospitable place. The revolving door turns, and they are gone - with only you to serve as a reminder that they were ever here. So you stay, and shine as bright as you can, lit like a candle in the dark in remembrance of them.

If we are very lucky, we can say we have lived well if we have made memories enough to serve as a wick for the light. I am one of the lucky ones, but too many times we find that, although we freely spend and waste love, rarely do we save it. As is often the case, we do not understand this, until we have need of it the most.

Thus after a loss, we need to love more than ever, share more than ever, so that the light of those who pass never dies out. This is the next phase of my life, to burn as bright as I can in remembrance of those I have lost, but will never forget.

A nephew. A father. A brother. A mother.

We all hold vigil in our own unique ways. In the branches of a tree. With religious rite. With private prayer. But it is all done with love. It is what unites the pagan with the priest, the rabbi with the imam, the methodist with the humanist.

The sole unifying tenet is that we must love one another. It is in this spirit that I ask forgiveness from anyone I have ever offended and I forgive anyone who has ever caused offence.

That sounds rather final, doesn't it?

This is not meant to be a final note, however. It may or may not be the last thing I write on this blog. Who knows? I hope it isn't. That is to say, life is rarely like a story. There is no perfect beginning, middle and end, filled with pithy meanings. Sometimes life ends mid-sentence. Sometimes it begins after a full stop.

All I know is that while there are still words in me, I will write in some shape or form. I have never written for money, and certainly not for profit, but I do write partly for therapy. In the main, however, I write out of love for the word. It is for this reason the writing will end when I do.

It is for this reason the writing never ends.

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