It's Only Natural - 1. It's Only Natural

It's Only Natural

The ring was still too small. However, that fact could hardly come as a surprise to him after all these years of wearing it. The daydreaming man squinted at his manual task, and suddenly saw all too clearly this kind of thing had been happening to him his whole life. He had the perfect metaphor within his grasp as he stood at the kitchen counter.

Every morning since he started to drink this kind of coffee, his cup would be a little too full and he'd have to pour some off. Somehow experience never rose to the level of being able to alter expectations, so he eventually gave up estimating the perfect amount of water to heat for the freeze-dried crystals of his instant caffeine. He told himself he was content to pour the excess of his mistake down the drain.

Julio had known how to do it right. His husband had been the one to make his coffee – real coffee, not the instant kind – and his tea, and his breakfasts and dinners. And Julio was the one to love him and lift his spirits at moments like these.

His finger throbbed still more insistently.

With the ring, it had been just the same. In the beginning he told himself the hassle of getting a new one, or getting the old one sized, wasn't worth the effort. Even on the day he left the jewelry store he reasoned with himself that the throbbing sensation would dissipate over time. He excused the pain with thoughts along the lines of: 'Maybe my finger will shrink, or get used to the ring being there, or something.' The man further rationalized directly to his betrothed with a dismissive laugh: "Well, at least I didn't get it too big so it'll be slipping all over the place."

He could hardly believe it, but that day so imminently fresh in his memory, the day his husband had picked out their matching wedding bands, had been fifty years ago. Furthermore, he did not need to glance away from stirring his overflowing instant coffee, or up at the calendar on the wall, to know today was the anniversary of the day he died. 'One year…' he wondered. 'Did ever two words sound crueler in combination?'

˚˚˚˚˚

His rush to leave the house was impeded. For while getting ready to run some errands, he was forced to pause on his porch, and there felt his ring finger pound again. It had started to rain once more, and to make matters worse, of course his umbrella was in the car; the weatherman, it turned out, had not been very precise with his forecast.

So he stood there, the 'rain' falling down his face as well. He was an exacting man living in an imprecise world, and thus was bound to it in a very personal way.

At times, we all stand in the rain with a throbbing finger, our memories, and our limitations. It's only natural.

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