Part of something else

"I heard a nice story the other day," he says. He closes his eyes for a moment and I wait.

He is dying.

"Okay. The story is about a little wave, bobbing along the ocean, having a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air- until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore."

"'My God, this is terrible,' the wave says. 'Look what's going to happen to me!'"

"Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, 'Why do you look so sad?'"

"The first wave says, 'You don't understand! We're all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn't it terrible?'"

"The second wave says, 'No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean.'"

I smile. He closes his eyes again.

"Part of the ocean," he says. "Part of the ocean." I watch him breathe, in and out, in and out.

Part of something else.

-Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom-

*not an original Edenia post