Annie Dillard wrote in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek: The world has signed a pact with the devil; it had to. It is a covenant to which every thing, even every hydrogen atom, is bound. The terms are clear: if you want to live, you have to die; you cannot have mountains and creeks without space, and space is a beauty married to a blind man. The blind man is Freedom, or Time, and he does not go anywhere without his great dog Death. The world came into being with the signing of the contract. ...this is what we know. The rest is gravy.
But Victor had little freedom and time and i say the contract seems kind to me and unkind to Victor. But i also know that Victor would hold no resentment towards me. He took what he could from life. He grabbed the best and the most from those all around him; his friends and family were his mountains and creeks, and he would say he was blessed.
This life after Victor's death seems not so much a cliche' of valuing life more but a pressure-less leaning to live well, to be calm and content with the things we have done. To hope and plan for things to come. To hold on to our blithering emotions and love who we are--not always connected by purpose but always by a mutual destination.
