If We Met

Dear Carol,


Let me start by being honest. Until a few days ago you were a hashtag. I’ve seen you a lot on my timeline. You were. Are. An inspiration to many guys out here. From what I gather you were this person that was rather bubbly even in the face of adversity. When disease had you confined to hospital walls you wore a smile. A victorious smile. It’s like amidst it all you knew things would get better. After all storms do pass right?

But this lifetime passed and I did not get to know you. I think that would have been fun. Sitting with you and getting to know a little about yourself. Something that social media did not put out there. Like your dreams. Fears. Heck, even your first kiss. I am that weird person that asks weird questions like that. But wait, it’s not perverted it’s just a writer thing. You see stuff like that is taken for granted but they are special. So I’d definitely ask you what it tasted like. If it was minty and fresh then you probably planned it. So I’d ask for the sloppy details, like one of mine, tasted like cheese and onion. Don’t ask. It is not as bad as you’d imagine.


I think that’s what we would not have had. It’s a bit cliché. And also for the love of God and cold beers I do not know good coffee from bad. I’ve had Java, Dormans, ArtCafe and I still think they are the same as a sachet of Nescafe and hot water. So much for being cultured. But, I think this comes from when I was a kid and I’d gulp large gushes of porridge. Sometimes it was hot. Very. And it scalded my tongue so bad I think it killed a few of my taste buds and their families. But on the plus side it’s probably why I can also do four shots back to back. Yeah, anyone that knows me knew I’d have to throw that in somewhere.


It must have been hard. I’ve been reading about your battle and it isn’t an easy one. It reminds me of a quote I saw that went something like “It’s confusing when you can’t determine if the signs are for you to give up or just a test to see how long you can hold on”. It’s at this point that people like me wish there was something we could’ve done. That we weren’t as complacent as we are in our zones surrounded by a false sense of comfort. Blind to what happens around us.

Good bye.

This probably has to be the shortest piece I’ve done this year. But one that’s really made me think about life. Mine. Yours. But it’s not to say that I don’t have a lot to say; I just know that at some point we will meet. I’ll probably introduce myself a bit more formally. Handshake here. Awkward hug there. You’ll tell me about the coffee there and if it’s worth a try then you’ll tell me about that kiss.

For now.

Let us bring you back home.purple-flower


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