"Let us not seek the Republican answer or the
Democratic answer, but the right answer. Let us not seek to fix the
blame for the past. Let us accept our own responsibility for the
future." - John F. Kennedy
I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper
with his scratchy handwriting, underneath a milk glass, on the dining
table near the front door. The note went
thus…"My dear, I would not pick that flower for you, but please allow
me to explain the reasons further.” This first line was already breaking
my heart. I continued reading. “When you use the computer you always
mess up the software programs, then you cry in front of the screen. I
have to save my fingers so I can help to restore the programs. You're
fond of leaving the house keys behind, thus, I have to save my legs to
rush home to open the door for you. You love traveling but always lose
your way in a new city, I have to save my eyes to show you the way. You
always have the cramps whenever your “good friend” approach every month,
I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.
You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by
infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories
to cure your boredom. You always stare at the computer, and that will do
nothing good for your eyes, I have to save my eyes so that when we grow
old, I can help to clip your nails, and help to remove those annoying
white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the
beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand…and tell you the
color of flowers, just like the color of the glow on your young face.
Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more
than I do…I could not pick that flower yet, and die. Because, I desire
to grow old with you”
