We are all born to die but it is how we choose to live that sets us apart
The best coffee in Sydney.
A close friend of mine sent me a text on a Sunday and immediately I sensed something was different.
Not necessarily wrong but different.
He doesn’t get in touch with me on a weekend.
We both have family and we spend our weekends holding those close even closer.
But this Sunday he sought me out and we arranged to meet at a coffee shop in Bronte.
As usual, I was early, so I ordered a piccolo and a bottle of Italian mineral water.
And sat outside, under the awning on a wire backed chair.
And he arrived with her.
Together. As one.
Walking down to me hand in hand.
And the emotion caught in my throat.
‘Yes, this man is holding something,’ I thought.
I could sense the strain just below his eyes.
But he held it casually.
And we hugged and smiled, and they sat, and it began.
And outside a suburban coffee shop in Bronte we shared the ultimate challenge.
Not death, but life.
We are all born to die but it is how we choose to live that sets us apart.
And this man and woman had grabbed life by the scruff of the neck and chose to live.
Through hardship and shock, and potential loss.
But here they sat, quietly talking, in front of me.
Then it fell silent and he looked up at me and smiled.
He looked down at his hands and spoke his truth.
And I was blown away by his calm faith.
As the wind blew and the rain threatened we looked back on our large and wild lives and faced an uncertain future.
For him, for her and us all.
And their gentle nature, shrouded a fear and a looming that would break most people.
Life was knocking.
Insistently hard at the door he knew he had to open.
Wide open into a room of phantoms.
Yet, here he sat saying:
‘It is what it is; it’s just another day.’
No matter what happens.
No matter how the cards fall.
We must go on through the tears and the regret.
And this man WILL go on.
Not sitting in remorse.
Not being over dramatic.
Simply facing his truth, whatever that may be.
One day at a time.