I remember a line from the book "The Prince of Tides" in which the narrator describes a photograph of he and his brother and sister standing on a dock, soaking wet and smiling enthusiastically.  The narrator questions whether or not the three of them would have been smiling the way they were had they known the devastation that was about to wreck havoc on their lives in the coming year.  For some reason that line has stayed with me all these years, as I read the book almost fifteen years ago, especially when I think of the smiles on my face in certain photographs, knowing now how unaware I was of the loss that was just around the corner.

Sometimes I ponder these things when I look at actual photographs, and other times these thoughts arise when I conjure up certain memories.  Tonight I am thinking of an old friend – a friend who I have known since we were twelve years old, whose locker I decorated with candy and streamers for her birthday in the eighth grade, who was with me through braces, boyfriends, getting my driver’s license and graduating from high school.  It is incredible to think of those memories now, knowing how unaware we were of all the experiences life would someday hand us, experiences that would challenge us in ways we could not even begin to fathom in our still developing teenage brains.  Would we have smiled as joyously during those years had we known all we were about to face?

This friend is one I have not spoken to in quite some time, but I know tonight she is in great pain, perhaps the greatest pain she has ever experienced.  I think of this and feel so sad for her and for her family, and I think of this tiny thread that has kept us connected all these years, however distant that connection has been at times.  To have known and been close to someone during the time in our lives when our personalities were still being formed and the dreams for our lives were just beginning to be sculpted, and to know that a certain part of the life they dreamed of has just been shattered, is a unique type of sadness.  It is sadness over a loss of innocence – a loss of that wild, uninhibited optimism we shared as teenagers.  A loss that, once it occurs, is irreversible.

Life gives us many opportunities to face and embrace one very special challenge:  to open our hearts.  This sounds simple, but when I say open our hearts, I mean OPEN OUR HEARTS.  The challenge being that the more we open our hearts to love, the more we open our hearts to possible pain.  As I sink deeper into my love for L, my fiancee, I risk a more devastating heartache if something were to happen to him.  We all have a choice in so many situations – in the decision to marry, to have children, to be unabashedly honest with someone – and that choice is to risk whatever pain that decision might bring – for whatever reason – for the sake of trusting, loving and opening our hearts as much as possible.  I made a choice to marry a wonderful person many years ago and that decision eventually led to the deepest pain I have ever felt.  When I look at our wedding pictures today, it is easy to look at them and assume I wouldn’t be smiling the way I was if I knew where things would end up.  But the truth is that I would still be smiling, because it was a beautiful day and I value immensely the time we shared.  My smile might have had a bittersweet tinge that only I would recognize, but it would still be a genuine smile.

Would my best friends from high school and I have laughed the way we did back then had we known the journey we would soon embark upon, with all of its bumps in the road, earthquakes and flash floods?  Would we have dared to dream as big as we did and followed our hearts as fearlessly?  I would like to think so.  I cannot begin to fathom the pain my friend is now experiencing;  the most I can do right now is send her a card and let her know I am thinking of her.  Hopefully she will get many such notes and cards – maybe from old friends she has not heard from in a while, like me – and she will be comforted knowing that those of us who knew her when she was still a babe in the woods have faith in her ability to heal.  We knew her when she was just beginning to become herself and grow into her own skin, and having seen those early stages of growth and maturity, we know she will survive, she will recover and she will continue to open her heart with perhaps greater hope than ever before.

My darling Jennifer, tonight I am thinking of you and holding a quiet place in my heart for your loss.  You are deeply loved.