Author: Bryant Benson

Dear Henry,

Sometimes I wish I never met you. When you found me washed up on the beach in my final hour I was something different that could have stung or bitten, but you took me into your home and gave me a safe place to die. I truly wish it wasn’t your life I had to take.

Until that moment, existence was simple: Find a new host before my previous one expired. I selected the eight limbed mollusk because it seemed to be the most appropriate life form on your planet from my limited perspective. I should have just died that day, old, depleted, expired. But there you were, a doomed helping hand. How could I have known what depths awaited me behind your kind blue eyes? How could I have known about your soon to be born daughter, Maria or the love of your wife, Cynthia? A fellow traveler you’d met five years prior on a connecting flight to Japan. I never would have known the reason you were on the beach that morning: To enjoy one last day of surfing before dedicating your life to your long awaited family. Surfing was a passion you once shared with your father and you were willing to let it subside for the new chapter you created. How could I have known what a loving man you were, your dreams, your fears, your memories?

Throughout my life I never felt like I had stolen something until I met you. I’ll never forget the way Cynthia looked at us. It was the first time I felt what it was to love and be loved. I was there when Maria was born. I never missed a day or an event that meant something to her and always made sure to remind her how proud of her you were. She was so much like her mother.

I never let Cynthia go to sleep without knowing you loved her and she never woke up without a five minute foot rub. All of the tasks you had already been on track to fulfill, I continued them. I tried to do right by you Henry. And when the doctors discovered her cancer, I left your job and stayed by her side. I held her hand every night until she fell asleep and I always made her your famous macaroni and cheese omelet. She showed me the beauty in a setting sun and the value of a silent moment.

She died with her head on my shoulder. Maria held me as I cried. I had never felt so numb in all my existence and such warmth in the same sobbing breath. I hope I did right by you Henry but these emotions were yours to feel.

As I sit here, watching the waves crash against the shore not far from where we met forty years ago, I can’t help but think, I’m so glad I met you Henry. This experience has been something I could only do once. My mind…your mind is failing, and the memories we’ve made have begun slipping away. I’m glad you didn’t have to experience this. If it’s any penance to what I stole from you, I am honored to suffer in your place now. It’s the least I can do for learning so much from the life you had already built. Thank you so much for this life Henry but I believe I’ll return to the ocean. Perhaps something simple again. Maybe a sea shrimp. Or perhaps I’ll just depart with you. After all, how could I top what you’ve already given me?