Today I saw a Facebook status update that filled me with that sense of pleasure that is most closely associated, I suppose, to a good meal with friends or a movie with a happy ending. A contentment that sits in your stomach and lightness that blooms in your heart.
A friend announced today on Facebook that he is in a relationship. People do that all the time, but this matters because last year, he lost his wife to a short illness. I remember finding out what was going on, that she was in a coma, and I followed the tweets and status updates with heart in mouth, hopinghopinghoping that it would all end well.
I had never met either of them, but I knew enough to know that they were good together. Not perfect, but good. Part of that process involved painting this, how I imagined a good marriage to be, that bond that goes beyonds the bounds of time and space.
“We are in the territory of miracles,” he wrote to me, and that ended up being the title.
And then she died. (I hate the expression “passed away”. I use it out of consideration for the sensitivities of others in conversation, but not on my own blog.)
Afterwards, we met for the first time so that I could give the painting to him. I remember the hollow look in his eyes, and the sadness, but also the refusal to be defeated. Safe and warm and dry, he said to me. That is what matters. I wrote about our conversation here, on Thought Leader.
I am glad that he has found happiness. It is a reminder that even in the middle of unbearable darkness, life not only goes on, it brings us good things too.
Thank you, Cobus. I wish you all the joy in the world.