Bridges 2

 

For a long time I held a grudge against a person.  I didn't see her enough to really think about it much, but when I did, I avoided her.  

She had done something I considered unforgivable.

Yesterday we were at the same Thanksgiving dinner.  Sitting at the opposite end of a long table, she said something amusing and I laughed in spite of myself.  I saw a bridge appear against a cloudy sky.  I could either cross it or burn it--and it turns out that in this case, the two actions were the same.  

I thought about something Freda said recently, "We are too old to be awkward!"

And so we talked.  I found out that her ex-husband had recently died, a man I'd liked back in the days we were all young together. I found out that her daughter had survived a very frightening illness.

We had both gone through three decades of good times and bad times.  We'd grown too old to be awkward anymore. 

Word by word, like tires thumping on a rickety old bridge, white knuckles on the steering wheel slowly relaxing, we got to the other side.