... With A Little Bit Of Magic

The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.  Ferdinand Foch

I met him, of all times, during the brief week my mom and I had together in Portugal.  He was gorgeous, and kind, and I was more than a little dazzled.  I made a pale effort to maintain my I’m-a-woman-alone-and-don’t-get-near-me face, and made sure to wear my faux wedding ring.  Despite my weary old habits though, I knew immediately that something was happening, something bigger than me.  He was, quite simply, a force of nature.  And one with whom I would have to reckon.

We exchanged contact information and a few of our big, fat, crazy dreams.  He made me laugh and made me wonder.  I learned only a little about his story, but enough.  Enough to appreciate he is a proud man of great depth.  Enough to see an old soul reflected under the surface of his youthful playfulness and wit.  Enough to finally acknowledge, and believe in what we were sharing: indisputable, undeniable magic.

But timing, as they say, is everything, and we had only the maybes of our magic.  Because he'll need all of his to thrash the disease that keeps returning to drag him back into the ring.  To defeat once and for all the disease that doesn't deserve him.  Because he is oozing with life.  Powerful, mischievous, fiercely courageous life.  Life full of adventures yet to be lived.  Life generously shared with the countless who love him.  And ever so briefly, life he shared with me, too.  


For reasons beyond our control, we knew I couldn't stay to fight for him.  Instead he sent me firmly onward, to boldly persist on this wild, ridiculous ride.  To live worthy of having encountered a bona fide force of nature.   So I'll take a bit of our magic on the road, a Portuguese mojo of sorts.  And since I can't give more, I'll leave the rest with him, an extra right hook I hope.  To show this bullshit disease who's boss.  For it too, will have its reckoning.  And it too will learn; you don't mess with magic.