Fatality of Loving Me

It has been eight years since I first visited the wonderfully dreamy and emotional Salvador Dali Museum. I roamed with an awareness that the last time I visited was with Matt.

Matt is/was a large, jovial, young man who had the misfortune of being the anchor I latched onto in the wake of my mother’s death. Matt absolutely knew who he was: colorful, loud, funny, and generous. He filled an indescribable emptiness absent the voice of my mother.

When looking back, Matt is a fatality of finding and loving me while I was lost to anything other grief.

We reconnected a few years ago. This young man had stage 4 cancer, fighting it, and doing pretty well. He maintained that warm and funny outlook, filled with hope if not the energy to live life the way he had.

Last year he returned to his parent’s house and now there is no response to his cell or text.

I thought about Matt today and our trip to the sea.

I hope he is still fighting.

An interpretation of this painting is that the figures represent the Fates with the thread…

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