"Well, that’s where your dad ended up. I tried for a while, but it was too hard for me. To look at everything here - all the sad, and the happy, too, the beautiful, the ugly - and know that’s all there is. When it’s gone, or actually when we’re gone, that’s all."
She stops.
"It’s an awful way to live. Pointless, and desperate - because you feel all this pressure to do to act to experience. To suck everything out of every day. You worry so much about sucking, that you don’t have time to taste, appreciate it."
And again.
"And it makes the pain worse. I didn’t want to experience things without him. I just wanted to see him again. And talk to him and hold him. Maybe it was the easy way out (too easy, your dad would say), but I chose to think about the future. Heaven, I guess, something better yet to come. But not like clouds and angels. More like familiar, more like hope."
The same apron, but different hands.
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