I was at the grocery store buying a can of beans and happened upon Arturo, my dear friend’s son, who was managing a hand basket on his left arm and his 9-month old on his right. Because I’m old and lose track of time, I was thinking it was the baby boy I had met a few times. I asked how the older brother was doing, remembering the adorable preschooler I knew. He kindly responded by showing me a photo of all three of his children. The “baby” I recalled is now 3, and the oldest is 7. I hadn’t ever met this precious baby now in his arms.
I realized that time had slipped by so insidiously that I was off by two years. It was so good to see Debby’s son and granddaughter looking happy and healthy. (She did look a tad tired from having just come from the playground, which is at it should be.)
But then it struck me that this sleepy little girl never met her wonderful grandma. Debby died two years ago, so she wouldn’t even have known about her granddaughter, let alone meet her. And that made me sad.
How could it be that it’s been two years since I got that phone call letting me know that my friend had quietly succumbed to cancer?
But her granddaughter proves that life does indeed go on. Just as it continued for me and my daughter after my parents died. And one day, my daughter will still thrive after her father and I are no longer around. It’s just the way things go.
Today I take a few moments to remember and cherish my friend and try not to be sad for the granddaughter she never met.