I shook a man’s hand on Tuesday and by Thursday he was dead. Life cues the credits much too early, as a good movie you never want it to end and you’re left with an empty popcorn box filled with regret for not getting the free refill because the good part is coming up, you can feel it. Afterwards you realize how much you’ve been ripped off, but it’s too late, and throw out your proof of purchase along with the empty sweets, here one moment gone the next.
His obituary didn’t say how he died, just that he was a loving father and husband, recently widowed. We are only given a set amount of time to live, and I think half of that time is attributed to luck, the other half to love. When you lose the one you love, life is just a fifty-fifty chance.
As a kid you think the first person you meet and fall in love with is your soul mate. What they didn’t tell you is how new love feels every time it hits you, and how different it is for each person you fall for.
Love is as precious as life, and luck has nothing to do with it, but judging from that man’s smile after our hands unhooked, chances are he lived a good life.