Twice

by Mitch Albom

The truth is, you never do as much good as you could.

A boy may not do everything for his mother. But he’ll do anything for her memory.

It doesn’t always make sense, the way you miss somebody. Sometimes, hurt seeks hurt.

There are years you think about for moments, and moments you think about for years.

I’ve noticed something about dying, Boss. When you come into this world, you have all these people who want to take care of you, and you don’t know any of them. Then, when you’re leaving this world, you have all these people you do know, but few of them want to be bothered.

She took my hand. What an arterial burst of joy! Her palm was soft and small enough to be dwarfed by mine, and we slid our fingers sideways until they fell in place, then tightened as if snapping two souls together.

At the beginning, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But years passed. They started arguing over money and how much time she spent with her mother. Everything cooled. What was it they said about passion and rocket fuel? They both burn fast?

And I learned another Truth About True Love: it doesn’t have to cost you anything. Even when it might cost you everything.

Secrecy is a loan against your better judgment. You pay the interest in regret.

That’s what I told myself. And what you tell yourself long enough becomes, like new paint on an old wall, the only color you see.

Some events in life you process as they happen. Others take a lifetime to understand.

And here is another Truth About True Love: only a whole heart can support it.

What is it about love that makes us think we can tame it, when all the while it is taming us?

It always felt strange to leave a building where someone had just died and suddenly be in sunshine, wind tickling your face. Did the world forget us so quickly? Or did it never take much notice in the first place?

And as they kissed through the dirty glass, she felt something old yet new explode in her heart. Because The Truth About True Love is that it can wait a lifetime. Or two.