To a Lost and Wandering Friend

A Story by arabellas

A letter to a friend.

Dear Friend,

I wish I could give you the advice "don't do anything unless it makes you happy," but that is a disgusting lie and quite possibly the worst advice I could ever have the good fortune of giving. There are many things in life we have to do that don't make us happy whether it's apologizing or paying taxes or taking responsibility for that vase that shattered two weeks ago. And there are many things that we choose to do that might not make us happy right away, but in the long run, they will benefit us greatly.

The hard part is that you will never be able to tell what is a curse you are placing on yourself and what is working like medicine to help you later on. In short, many things will make you unhappy, but do not be foolish and imagine that you begin and end with Disaster because there is so much more. You will be blind for awhile, as you should be, or perhaps as you must be, but your vision will come again.

I cannot tell you simply "Be Happy" because there is no happiness on and off switch. I can't reach out and hug you because what is warmth and comfort going to do if your soul is numb? And what is all this talk of an imperishable soul if you don't believe you have one? I cannot help you as I'd like to and I hope your heart does not sink as you read this.

I can leave you with a short list of things worth living for (in no particular order):

1.) There is a stray cat that paces outside my window. She makes a happy sound when I let her on my porch when it's raining. She likes sitting on pumpkins and hates when I wrap her in a scarf. She wanders and returns.

2.) The library down the street from my house stays open extra late when it rains or if you ask nicely. There is human kindness and the smell of a good book. Even the bad ones have that pleasant rotting smell.

3.) Flowers appear on my grandmother's grave. I do not put them there and neither does my mother. Someone saw me weeping like a baby and decided if her life was important enough to make a bull-faced girl like me cry, the dead one's life was important enough for a vase of flowers.

4.) No one in the history has ever faded without leaving a trace. I cannot explain how I know this, but I know this. I ask you to trust me, but I imagine I've already got the beginnings of trust since it was me who received your letter in the first place (snail mail, nice touch).