"Our death practices ritualise our morbidity," she said calmly. "You
should have recognized at least this much by now, be cause you know that
no one actually dies, and everyone chooses their moment to move on. Our
cultural indulgences in grief have burdened the earth with near
impenetrable boxes filled with toxic remains that should have been
returned to the earth quickly and cleanly, instead of rendering the earth
useless as memorials to our self-worth. Our rituals are religious
contrivances that gouge the pockets of the living by exploiting their
feelings of guilt and remorse."
"Ya, I get that—but I kept my promise."
"It was a promise that could only serve to stand you in a good light."
With a shake of her head, she said, "You should be forever grateful that
you have a friend who can tolerate you, let alone love you."
"Tolerate?"
"That you live under the graces of a giving friend, then have the
audacity to bad mouth him when he doesn‘t do what you think he should
do, is example enough of your misguided sense of loyalty. That you think
so highly of yourself that your presence was required at his father‘s
funeral is incredible, and your inconsideration monumental."
"In-con-sid-er-ation?" I sputtered.
"You were self- importantly spending his money, under the guise of
practicing generosity, days before you placed a further financial burden on
him at a time when he had burdens enough. Is he not faced with keeping
you in money again, probably at the expense of getting away in his time of
need?"
My stomach fell to my knees, and I said I had to leave. The day was
already too full for me.
"I‘ll see you when you‘re ready."
I had no idea how I was going to face Ed when I got home. I felt that
I must, but as neither he nor I ever apologized for our lives to anyone, let
alone to each other, I had no idea where to begin. Then I realized he didn‘t
see things the way Bonnie had explained them.
It took me two years to deliver my apology.
_____Nantucket Sleigh Ride_____
Two days later, Bonnie could still see the accumulative self-pity and
sadness in me, but she did not interfere with my grieving over multip le
circumstances. I was attentive, did not interject my version of humour, and
for lack of a better word was generally uninspired in my relatively
