Vincent stared blankly into space for a long time, unaware of the sounds and motions swirling around him. Though his eyes were open, he could only see the images playing over and over in his head, repeating like It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Day ad nauseum infinitum. Before him lay the emotional wreckage of the life he had left behind.
The exhaustion of his grief, at least temporarily, had allowed him to survey the damage in a dispassionate way, as if he were watching someone else walk among the ruins. He stepped carefully around the sharp shards of the broken marriage lying amongst the detritus of a life spent accumulating things instead of experiences. Vincent saw himself naked and wandering among the debris. He felt exposed to the world, as if everyone could see through his clothes and skin to the void and confusion in his heart. He shouted at those passing by, sullenly shaking their heads in disapproval at him. “You don’t understand…..you don’t understand….” But they all kept walking along toward the horizon, and were replaced by a new line of head-shakers.
He mutely stepped around cardboard-like images of his family, lying as if they were mowed down by some giant scythe, a look of sad surprise on their faces. Vincent cried the few tears he had left in his eyes, and continued wandering.
Occasionally, he would yelp and grab his foot, pinching at it with fingernails, dabbing away the trickle of blood so he could see better. He would pinch again and again until he pulled something out. Bending down to get a closer look, it appeared to be one of those marital shards – this one a sharp word said in anger over a perceived hurt. Then another from a broken promise. Some lay flat and crushed almost to dust; others stabbed dangerously out of the ground. He knew that he could spend the rest of his life picking shards from his feet, re-living the pain each time like the first, or he could move ahead.
A few years later, Vincent again seemed lost in a dream. This time, he gazed out over a bright green lawn from a vantage point above on a deck. The field was full of people, and he recognized faces – friends, relatives and his family – though they all seemed different. They were older, and he saw that they had families of their own, little sprouts playing in the grass. He looked to the side and saw his ex-wife, and she held a little girl in her arms, and leaned her over to kiss a pleasant looking fellow on top of his head, then she did the same, before turning and smiling over her shoulder at Vincent.
He thought about all he had learned over these past years, and the rewards he now reaped for spending the time and effort to find himself.. Soft fingers slipped into his, and an arm slid around his waist. He turned but couldn’t to see who it was. The touch was comforting and sent a warm glow throughout his body and deep into his soul. And gentle words filled his heart with love and hope…. you can start over…..
