Explanation: The world lost a brilliant young writer today. She was 29 years old, a member of the precious Big Yellow Writing Group, and winner of Glamor Magazine's annual essay contest--an essay that will feature her always fashionable photo spread and her wonderful story--available on the news stands in just 8 days. She never saw the final print of it. Although she was verys sick, she died unexpectedly after spending a glorious courageous weekend writing the best hysterical stories about her family, with a dozen of us fellow writers at Big Yellow in awe of her simple magical talent.
.
I cannot yet put my thoughts and the great loss into words. However, in her memory I am none-the-less following through with my intention to return to the love story of Alex and Lily. This story has been dormant since February, and yet the writing's almost finished.
To those of you who have followed along, with thin patience by now, thank you.
We resume with Alex and Lily together, after seven years apart:
The aisles at Trader Joe’s have an altogether different feel in early spring. It’s as though you could pick up a six pack of prepared optimism just as easily as an organic pizza or an avocado four pack. The ground in Western Mass. has been a deepening shade of white all winter and the measured hope of new growth and green grass is not lost on the shoppers of Trader Joes.
It is Saturday morning and Lily is making her way from the bread section, where she has stocked up on four packages of blueberry scones and one nutty loaf of Milton’s Multi Grain bread, toward the long aisle of frozen foods, where she knows she will find any number of fresh and easy to prepare entrees for the nights when both she and Alex don’t or won’t cook. They have been together now for 17 months and if you asked either about their nightly dinners and general contentment level, they would both say 'astonishing'.
.
Alex is healthy and back to work. Monthly blood tests interrupt the otherwise gentle flow of their lives, but all in all, their implausible bond has thrived.
.
Lily is looking at her grocery list . She does not see Max until they are within 12 feet of each other. She does not have time to respond to the ambivalence she has carried for almost two years: she has not seen this woman who rescued and loved her since she received Alex first letter, and for that reason alone she is unprepared to face her now. She is embarrassed—almost ashamed—that she had not made contact before now, has not explained things to her. And yet, despite all that, she is both delighted and relieved to see her again..
.
Max is ready. Lily can tell that she has had some extra seconds to brace and prepare.
.
“Hey! Lily.”, Max smiles. She barely pauses before she extends both hands in Lily's direction. It is a warm gesture—a gracious greeting—and Lily is reminded of how Max single-handedly pulled her up from depression and despair.
.
“Max”,, Lily says. “Oh god, you look great.”
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Max nods. Once again, she will make this easy for Lily.
.
“It's nice to see you. I heard Alex is doing well. I’m so glad.”
.
Despite the effort, the unspoken will not work. They both know this.
.
“Max, do I owe you an explanation?”, Lily asks.
.
“No Lily. That’s ancient history. I’ve recovered. I had to replace you of course—no small feat...” Max smiles, “...But I’m doing fine, and I’m glad for you. I’m glad. I know how much you loved her. You must be overjoyed".
.
“I am overjoyed, Max. She’s cancer free. Even the kids have come around some. And we’re headed to Paris in May—kind of a celebration."
.
Max smiles again. She steadies her chin and looks fondly at Lily.
.
“It’s great to see you, girl. Take care, ok"? She begins her pull away.
.
Lily hesitates. “Max? How would you feel about getting together sometime, for coffee or something?"
.
The sudden movement in Max’s right eye is barely noticeable, but Lily sees it. She has made a mistake.
.
“No Lily, not now. Maybe someday, ok?”.
.
“Sure”, Lily replies. “Great to see you.”
.
With that, Max pushes her cart past Lily’s. Moments later Lily looks for her at the checkout counters, and again in the parking lot, but she would not see Max again. She would drive home with her five bags of groceries, and she would tell Alex that she had just seenleft one of the nicest people she has ever known. Then they would eat dinner--this night Chinese chicken with mushrooms and broccoli over rice. Later, just before bed, Lily would look at Alex and wonder if she could have even shown up if this woman named Max had not rescued her from the impossible weight of a hopeless heart.
To those of you who have followed along, with thin patience by now, thank you.
We resume with Alex and Lily together, after seven years apart:
The aisles at Trader Joe’s have an altogether different feel in early spring. It’s as though you could pick up a six pack of prepared optimism just as easily as an organic pizza or an avocado four pack. The ground in Western Mass. has been a deepening shade of white all winter and the measured hope of new growth and green grass is not lost on the shoppers of Trader Joes.
It is Saturday morning and Lily is making her way from the bread section, where she has stocked up on four packages of blueberry scones and one nutty loaf of Milton’s Multi Grain bread, toward the long aisle of frozen foods, where she knows she will find any number of fresh and easy to prepare entrees for the nights when both she and Alex don’t or won’t cook. They have been together now for 17 months and if you asked either about their nightly dinners and general contentment level, they would both say 'astonishing'.
.
Alex is healthy and back to work. Monthly blood tests interrupt the otherwise gentle flow of their lives, but all in all, their implausible bond has thrived.
.
Lily is looking at her grocery list . She does not see Max until they are within 12 feet of each other. She does not have time to respond to the ambivalence she has carried for almost two years: she has not seen this woman who rescued and loved her since she received Alex first letter, and for that reason alone she is unprepared to face her now. She is embarrassed—almost ashamed—that she had not made contact before now, has not explained things to her. And yet, despite all that, she is both delighted and relieved to see her again..
.
Max is ready. Lily can tell that she has had some extra seconds to brace and prepare.
.
“Hey! Lily.”, Max smiles. She barely pauses before she extends both hands in Lily's direction. It is a warm gesture—a gracious greeting—and Lily is reminded of how Max single-handedly pulled her up from depression and despair.
.
“Max”,, Lily says. “Oh god, you look great.”
.
Max nods. Once again, she will make this easy for Lily.
.
“It's nice to see you. I heard Alex is doing well. I’m so glad.”
.
Despite the effort, the unspoken will not work. They both know this.
.
“Max, do I owe you an explanation?”, Lily asks.
.
“No Lily. That’s ancient history. I’ve recovered. I had to replace you of course—no small feat...” Max smiles, “...But I’m doing fine, and I’m glad for you. I’m glad. I know how much you loved her. You must be overjoyed".
.
“I am overjoyed, Max. She’s cancer free. Even the kids have come around some. And we’re headed to Paris in May—kind of a celebration."
.
Max smiles again. She steadies her chin and looks fondly at Lily.
.
“It’s great to see you, girl. Take care, ok"? She begins her pull away.
.
Lily hesitates. “Max? How would you feel about getting together sometime, for coffee or something?"
.
The sudden movement in Max’s right eye is barely noticeable, but Lily sees it. She has made a mistake.
.
“No Lily, not now. Maybe someday, ok?”.
.
“Sure”, Lily replies. “Great to see you.”
.
With that, Max pushes her cart past Lily’s. Moments later Lily looks for her at the checkout counters, and again in the parking lot, but she would not see Max again. She would drive home with her five bags of groceries, and she would tell Alex that she had just seenleft one of the nicest people she has ever known. Then they would eat dinner--this night Chinese chicken with mushrooms and broccoli over rice. Later, just before bed, Lily would look at Alex and wonder if she could have even shown up if this woman named Max had not rescued her from the impossible weight of a hopeless heart.
The place was beautiful. All week we shuffled from the pool to the ocean to the Lazy River. The lazy river, it turns out, is really a pool that twists and turns for quite a distance, with its own current to gently pull you along through those twists and turns without any effort on your part. All that was needed was an inner tube. We five women and one wonderful 15 month old Mr. Ryan were totally prepared:
This was my view from the lounge chair at the pool. Here I sunned and rested in between swims, drank virgin strawberry 
We were 
Following this loose association with disability, our rental car was damaged. I admit I am not always 
From the beaches to the restaurants, low cost handmade thatched roofs were everywhere. I'll bet my friend Ces can explain this technique:
Our nightlife was pretty tame, except I dragged 
And this, for now, concludes this introduction to Aruba and the 
