The Sins of Man

We’ve returned home from Philadelphia, though home is not exactly as we left it.  There is a gray storm cloud hovering above us; perhaps still building in power and ferocity, or lingering remnants of a thunderhead.  I’m not talking about the weather, though the hurricane located near Corpus Christi does invoke a palpable invocation of the mood.

Two very dear friends were struck apart suddenly and violently by the squandering of trust and respect by one from the other.  The consequences for such a thing are no mystery, though the act mystifies many of us.  How is it that when a relationship is ended so suddenly that it is as if someone died?  Did the offender die, or the offended?  Does this change their lives forever, or can the shattered pieces coallesce back into solidarity.  Perhaps the answer to that question is really the stuff that defines someone.  Do you care enough to persist?  The hardest thing in the world may well be the acknowledgment of fault; the recovery of abasement despite humiliation.

To the offender: I am not immune to my friends’ pain.  I cannot abide such disrespect to any of my friends, especially not from another.  However, I am also one of the best friends to have; even though my respect has been scarred by this event, I am willing to lend my support and help where it is appreciated.  I’m not the best friend because I can forgive…I’m the best because I won’t settle for anything but an attitude for reparations.  After that, you two can determine your own futures.