A Dragonfly's Dream

Chapter XXIX- Her Shoes

DREAM JOURNAL

Her shoes

James and I were at a family gathering. I was wearing a gown, and was looking for shoes. I bought many nice shoes last year, but my feet had grown and now they were all too small for me.

I traded shoes with someone who had a bigger size. I found that her shoes were too plain for my taste.

But the size was perfect, so I wore them.

.........

I never visited his grave. For some reason, I never took up Rod's offer to drive me there. I just couldn't do it. I never really thought much of the reason. But now, I realize it was because I never wanted to accept that he was indeed gone.

It was sweet....our little ghostly love affair. It was sweet and bitter at the same time. They came together. I could not love him and take one without the other.

And for years, I lived with that. I had gotten so used to it that it crushed me, when he finally brought it to its inevitable demise. I say inevitable because, in reality, what chance did we really have? It had been a losing game from the beginning. Yet, like a fool, I played it anyway. And no, I didn't regret a thing. For even at its wake it left something alive within me.

At first I couldn't put my finger on it. What was it that had changed? Why is it that I could once again smell the life from the trees? Ah, and then I realized...I had been loved!

He had loved me something fierce.

True, we never really stood a chance against brutal reality. But we did put up a good fight. A very good fight.

A seed, no matter how strong, no matter how good, would eventually wither if left to starve on rocky soil without rain, or sunshine. And so, there I was, visiting his grave. I had come to give our love the proper eulogy and finally put it to rest.

After all, he was gone. There was no more point in fighting or struggling or not accepting things. It was pointless fighting such battle alone. I couldn't continue even if I wanted to. It took two to make that work. I had tried so hard to bring back the dead. But in the end, I too, had to yield to the strong current.

The cemetery was called Heritage Park. It was late in the afternoon and the weather was windy and overcast. As I entered the gate, I glanced inside and observed that the place was nicely built. The wide expanse was covered with green Bermuda grass, and a lot of trees provided shade. But of course, there was something sad and wistful about it. It possessed such an eerie kind of peacefulness which only a cemetery could have.

The guard looked at his logbook perfunctorily. "Name of the person you'd like to visit?"

"James Delegrio."

"Go straight down that path, until you see the bridge. It's the one beside the big tree. You can't miss it."

As I walked down the path, the wind rattled the trees and some leaves fell. The breeze carried whispers of the dead. Whispers that were quite solemn and regretful. Whispers of things that could've been.

And speaking of regret, I never thought I'd see her here but she was the perfect picture of it. I wondered how often she paid him a visit. Her back was turned and she was totally unaware of my presence.

Back in college, I had this impression of her as the lively sort. Never really knew her well. But I got the idea that much like James, she was the stereotypical party-going-happy- go -lucky type.