People appear and disappear from my life on a fairly regular basis. Because I'm the center of my universe, I assume all of them have been put here for a reason, to relay information to me from myself.
I'm writing this blog post wearing a pair of pretty reading glasses gifted to me by a dear acquaintance of mine .
"The minute I saw them, I thought of you," she said as she handed me the floral-print spectacles.
Floral? I thought to myself. Why would she think of me when she sees floral? Everyone knows I'm about leather and spandex and grit. I never wear floral...it makes me feel like a couch.
"Thank you," I said.
I took the glasses home with me and ended up wearing them all the time. They were the prettiest glasses I'd ever owned, and when I caught sight of myself in a mirror, I felt happy
A few days after my friend gave me the glasses, I got word that she'd suddenly died.
I didn't attend her funeral because I was swimming in puddles of tears. I took some comfort in realizing she would have understood my absence: she had a way of looking past the theatrical posturings of the world and seeing the small, tender stuff hidden behind the scenes.