And Tomorrow Never Comes

And Tomorrow Never Comes, February 2017 In the vein of maintaining balance, we all have a way we tick, our aspirations, and all that- that which has us get up, and show up. Most of the time these are set platitudes that are our good go- to mechanisms, like for one it may be goodness and winning, and for the other is goodness and acceptance. But the real attraction that binds us is to be blind- sided by love.

Anyway, last night I had a visit from a very pure person, a friend that means a lot to me, and for this little letting I will call him Biff. We went out with our best friend the other night just to be with him. We had invited him to come over and meet a lady who lives next door to a library and who oversaw its management. With knowing we were coming over, she invited some guests to introduce us to each other. It was just one of those summer nights where the budding stars and darkening skies beckon to bring people out.

With Biff in tow, we flowed into what was becoming an impromptu gathering. We nibbled on cakes, and washed them down with coffee or ice tea. Soon the party moved onto the breezeway and we started showing each other pieces of dance moves from our childhood; a skip here, a take- her- by- the- arm there, and now a do- si- do dance step… and soon it was all about our best friend Biff, and one of the invited guests, Ms. Fiona. As we settled on the settees and stools scattered about, we tried to gather our breathing and let the soothing promises of an advancing evening air cool us off, and I saw Biff and Ms. Fiona- heads together. They were smiling and oblivious to anything else. As the night closed we said our good byes to the new people we met, and to the friend we brought- and, well, he was in remarkably good spirits.

It wasn’t long before we heard from him again and he wanted to see Ms. Fiona. In the horribleness of it all I had to give him the news… and I inform him that she has fallen ill and is not receiving. The line went quiet. Then, apologies were met and the awkward pain of the news closed on the click of the phone. Months passed when all of a sudden Biff showed up. His hair was carefully laid down and in his inquiries and requests were symbols of blind- sided love for her. He asked only to see her one more time.

What could I do? I didn’t really know her. I didn’t know her circumstances, so I did the next best thing I could for him- I went to where they had met. When I showed up at her place of work in the Library, my friend took one look at me and knew what I wanted and said “They’re not here dear, and this, with you showing up is not good for anyone.” I was frozen and couldn’t move- I just didn’t know how to respond. I heard myself push through my teeth the words “He’s important to me. I owe this man my life.” She came over and patting my arm says “Now she’s had to move in with someone.”

Just then a woman came ‘busying’ in between us and interrupting injects “Oh, bother- she’s not like I have a stray cat or dog...” Startled- I turn just my face full 180 to square her in my eyes and managed “he’s here: He’s important to me.” She nodded knowingly and shoved in my hand a piece of paper with an address and said “Now tell your friend that when he gets to the park and you see the lights, she’s at the third light on the right.” The librarian's eyes never left the lady after she released the paper with the address on it to me, and even after I left. When the 'guest' had left, she asked her why she handled it this way. The lady lowering her head softly shared "Sometimes it's the message we need- and not the answer. Everyone who knew Ms. Fiona loved her; and the memorial they created can explain it better than us."

In the vein of maintaining balance, we all have a way we tick, our aspirations, and all that- that which has us get up, and show up, and the hopes that maybe tomorrow we will be blind- sided by love. And what happens to us… when tomorrow never comes.

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