I didn’t notice the wall go up. It was glass. I wasn’t looking. I have to wonder. I have to ask. Was it me or was it the builder? Who caused the decision for the wall to be made?I didn’t notice the first bricks. They were moments of busy-ness. They were minutes of being unavailable. Some were kindness sent his way that went unnoticed. His requests still came in the sweetest way. I was happy to do a favor.
I was sure it was as he said, work getting in the way − family and pressing needs. I helped out all I could. He was sensitive to the behavior of others. I saw that. I found ways to make sure it wasn’t more. He always thanked me for watching his back.
Then three in a row happened, Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times he didn’t show up. Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times I was left to wonder. Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times like in a fairy tale.
He had lived on the high ground. He had no room for less. He had no tolerance for those who didn’t. Yet the last time I heard him defend the folks he would have fought. And he didn't notice that he knocked me down in the process.
I thought fairy tales ended happily ever after, not with heroes who built walls.
−me strauss Letting me be
2 comments:
I think even heroes can build walls. Fortunately, the one you write about is glass. Easy to see through and easily dismantled if somewhere down the line things change. I hope that happens for you, Liz. Take a peek through the glass wall every now and then. The guy on the other side might be grateful in the long run.
Dawn,
You are wise and you are a great friend. Thank you for giving me those thoughts to hold on to. I notice how those words "for giving" could become "forgiving" without that little space between them. I won't for get that. :)
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