The Anatomy of Magic

by J.C. Cervantes

And yet here it is. By any other name: blessing, fortune, destiny. It doesn’t matter how or why it’s landed here at our feet, because it’s ours.

Make it work. I roll the words around in my head. What does that mean? And how? Reducing our relationship to phone calls and

weekends? I’ve spent so long without Sam that the thought of going back to a life without him sounds miserable. Still, I made a commitment and I worked hard to be a chief in my last year of residency. It’s then that I think about the memory ceremony, about how I chose to remember Sarah. It would have been so easy to let her fade from my consciousness, but I would have cheated myself out of the forgiveness and the healing. It’s this realization that actually reenergizes my love of medicine, and for the first time since, I feel ready to face the hospital again.

Soon, everything will be dark. That’s the immutable nature of time, always moving forward. It’s why we were given memories.

I used to hate maybes—their cryptic uncertain nature. Now I see them for what they are. Possibilities. And for me and Sam, the possibilities are endless.