Independent People

Dear HDHK,

You still have a book of mine. And every time I think of it, the irony puts salt into my blood. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth but I smile and let it linger because it’s real and honest and will probably be funny the further away from today that I get.

Do you remember which book it is? 

Independent People. The book that I didn’t understand but in which you were able to see the humor. I couldn’t finish it and you took it up. I realized too late that passing that book was a prophecy in its own way. This book based on the struggle for the protagonist to be independent, to make his family independent. This belief that being independent is more important than every other human quality. I didn’t find it funny because the author relied upon miscommunication between the characters for all of his jokes. 

Do you see it? The echo of us in the book, the book reflecting us. You trying so hard to be the independent people. Us talking and talking but never communicating successfully, never understanding. Maybe if I could have seen the larger picture, our miscommunication would have been less painful. Maybe if I valued being independent more, I would have had a chance at a happy ending. I don’t know how the book ended. Part of me wants to read it to see if there’s a solution I could use in a vague hope of bringing the metaphor home to rest. Maybe you can tell me how it went.

We are all a secret world unto ourselves.

The trails and canyons carved by blood make no sense to me. Sometimes you grow up with someone for years or decades only to turn a corner and fail to recognize them.

And yet there are times when all of the obstacles like time and distance and chance seemed stacked against you from the start but you find each other anyway. There's a pause and you stare into eyes full of the same surprise and say "You are like me, I am like you. We belong and are bound together."

I do not know how the blood that we share with others determines when it will betray or forget you and when it will break your fall. I am trying to let the mystery comfort me. I know how to anticipate disappointment but somehow the blessing always surpasses surprise.