We Live On

“We are all more connected than we realize. Sure, we’re gone, but we had a place in your life once, and you in ours. We live on in you, and you are a memory to us. And since all we are is a memory in your world, then you are a tangible part of our intangible world. Does that make sense?” He was sitting against the cabin of his racing yacht, reclined a little against a few cushions, arm rested on the deck that was level with his shoulder, elbow against one of the winches used to haul in the sails on any given Wednesday night club race , like the one we were about to compete in tonight. “It’s like it never really ends,” I replied. “The physical does, but the feeling does not. And sometimes that feeling is so strong that it actually feels real, like we are really here and this is happening all over again, every sense that was part of it, happening again.” He nodded his head to agree and we shared the moment. The afternoon wind blew through the marina and rustled the boats, their rigging swaying, clanging against metal masts, wood masts, the sea lapping against the hulls, some replying with a thud, some with a tingling. “Remember when we had thesis moments decades ago?” he asked. “You’re right, they never end, and we will have more for many decades to come, more than you can imagine. So don’t go missing them, because they are all here, whenever you want them.” I felt the fire crackling behind me and the cold concrete under my feet. The memory faded into the courtyard around me. The cool wind of the morning whistled one more tune, a soft voice singing within it, barely audible, “until next time.”