Laughing in the face of...

(Photo credit: The above is a photomerge of a statue in a monestary in Florence. Photos were taken by the person this post is about, using my camera equipment.)

I am taking a 3-day seminar and one of the things I am supposed to bring is a notebook. So I went to one of the shelves by my desk and thought about what would suit my needs. I knew I would be taking notes in my seat without a desktop to rest it on so I wanted something that I could hold in one hand and that would not be too flexible. After a moment I pulled off a hard-cover spiral notebook that is somewhat like a journal, but larger... the size of a hardback book.

I've had this particular notebook and another just like it for years and not done anything with them, so I was quite surprised to find writing inside it when I opened it. In my ex-girlfriend's beautiful handwriting was written the following words:

Jan 13, 2002
101 things to do
1. Read "The Procrastinator's Handbook"

And then I laughed. No, correction. I roared with laughter. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes and my throat was raw.

I laughed because the rest of the entire notebook was EMPTY.
She had procrastinated writing the other 100 things to do.

It was such a fitting legacy. There, in three lines, was the story of her life. There, in three lines, was an illustration of what did not work in our relationship, and in her life then and now.

And in the face of those words, the last of the hurt and bitterness left me, and I laughed, genuinely laughed, at my folly and hers, and with joy at my freedom, both from her, and from the trap of procrastination.

Life is so absurd. How can we not laugh at it?