Follow the Fortune Cookie

Five Pence

"The healthiest response to life is joy." - Deepak Chopra
Currently listening to: "After All" - Bebel Gilberto
Currently reading: "Fantasy in Death" by: J.D. Robb

It's funny but I've found that Ireland is never really far from my heart nowadays. The 3 o'clock in the morning walks with my less than sober friends down the empty streets of Belfast; the open green fields and smell of fresh rain as we drive by. Everywhere I go, I find something to trigger memories of the wonderful moments. Today was no different.

Searching through my messenger bag I found a small silver piece - a five pence left over from Ireland. The sight of it in my palm made me smile. I have a vast collection of coins from the trip, kept in a small ceramic cup I made forever and a moon ago. Having the five pence in hand made me forget everything I was doing and just think back to those times. Those glorious, anxious times.

Maybe it was the timing or simply a twist of fate, but I found my thoughts going to my grandfather. His health has taken a decline for the worst, and my grandmother follows close behind. It is amazing to see how in sync they are with each other, and it is harrowing how frail he has become. Sitting in the kitchen with them, the television blaring some horrible news from around the world, I see him staring off into the distance and I cannot help but wonder what he's thinking. Does he have any regrets? Does he go back to the good memories like I do with my six pence? Does he wish he had just a little while longer before the curtain are drawn on his mind?

They call it "The Long Goodbye". It seems more like a fading smile than any goodbye we have spoken to one another. What chills the bone and calms the soul is that he knows what is to come. My grandfather with a mind of brilliance and optimism and charm is slowly fading like that smile. We suspect the cancer has come back or something is wrong with his heart again. Nothing is certain but everything is frightful. It makes me hold onto that five pence a little bit tighter.

By the time my thoughts have circled back to reality, I've lost thirty or so minutes of time. Time that will not return. Was it worth? Will it be worth it again, these flights of memory and sorrow and long goodbyes? This I cannot answer, but I stick the five pence in my jean pocket all the same.