Ghosts of Harvard

by Francesca Serritella

She had learned that unasked questions were more dangerous than unanswered ones.

Do we all

pick only the best snapshots to remember in our mental scrapbooks and throw away the bad? Perhaps all photo albums should bear the subtitle “The Past—The Way You Want to Remember It.”

The lie endures for generations, while the truth dies with its victims. But what were the consequences?

They say fate is written in the stars, but the irony is that stars don’t project the future, they reflect the past. If you think about it, every time you look at a star, you’re looking back in time. The North Star is four hundred thirty light-years away, so when you see it shining, the light hitting your eyes is already four hundred thirty years old.

You and I have both lost someone. I like to think they’re like the stars. Their light hasn’t gone out. Candlelight goes out. But something as bright as a star, or a soul, that light moves on.

Legacy is different from fate. I chose to inherit his legacy, and I’m choosing to carry it onward. Fate implies you have no control. I admit, choice can be a burden, it would be a load off to think the future’s already set. But I don’t believe anything is written in the stars. I want to write it myself.

Just because it’s my choice to go doesn’t mean I’m not heartbroken to leave you.

Now she understood that we must love people whom we cannot control, in fact, we are lucky to love and be loved by people we cannot control. If we could control the person, love wouldn’t be a gift. This was the uncertainty of life, and of death. It was what made life beautiful and terrifying at once. It was the state of grace.