Fifteen years ago on a moonlit September evening, George, my brother in law said,
“Anne, you did everything right.”
His words were meant as a consolation at the time.
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They were spoken on the night he learned he had lost a brother, and I had lost a
lover, a husband and my anam cara
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My brother in law and I had never been kindred souls, but neither had we ever been enemies.
Our relationship was based on mutual indifference, which made the words I heard that night, when I was in desperate need, so meaningful.
That kindness happened a long time ago, and on another moonless night recently I remembered them.
And I wondered,
What is right?
Is it a choice, or an accident?
What was right during the years of my beloved’s illness could be misinterpreted today.
He and I chose to believe all would be well, not in the next world (that is easy) but by denial of each day’s reality.
And perhaps it denied the man I loved the ability to say goodbye in his own fashion because he
chose to abide by another’s needs.
And today while I will always be grateful for my brother in law’s kindness, I wonder if I really did the
right thing at all?
