I believe in forever. I don’t mean everyone should bank on his or her flawless fairy tale. I’m not talking about that can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, world-series kind of stuff. I just think sometimes people say forever, and they really mean it. It’s rare, but when it’s there, everyone just has to stop and look. It’s one of those things that’s impossible to describe, like the magic of high school football, or the first time seeing your dad cry.
I got to really see forever, like really got to observe it, one time. My Nanie and Papa were married for fifty-five years when she passed away that November. Christmas that year felt empty, and I will never leave behind the memory of Papa at the dinner table. He sat at the head of the table, the man who was responsible for holding the people in those seats together. As we held hands to pray, I watched heavy tears fall down his face. He missed his wife, and I missed her too. We all did. It wasn’t missing her that was killing me that Christmas Eve, though. It was watching a man, whose strength I would swear by, fall apart. That night I knew I wanted that; I wanted someone to love me the way he loves her.
Those tears showed me that forever isn’t perfect, but it’s unconditional, and it’s forgiving. Forever is a promise that so many people are willing to break, because forever isn’t easy. Nothing as lovely as forever is going to be easy though, and that’s why it’s so captivating. That’s why it’s something everyone is after, and so few people find. It’s lucky.
Someday I’ll say forever, and when I do it’ll be real. Forever isn’t like a movie ending, but that’s the thing about forever: it’s endless. Heaven took Papa from us a few weeks ago, and his absence is still heavy in the air. Our grief feels selfish though, because Papa is just fine. He went home to his forever, and that makes me smile. He left to a place we can’t possibly understand, but it’s an atmosphere that can carry his forever into eternity, and I truly believe that.