We will build it

“Divorce Family Robinson,” Jake told his mentor – or should that be Mentor? “has suddenly become Suicide Family Robinson.”

“Forgiveness, tolerance, non-judgment,” said Jake’s guardian angel, “have you never listened to what I’ve taught you?”

“Oh, but I have, Savior. I have underscored that in my brain … and in my heart … every day. But he’s going to leave me, I know it, Savior … I know it.”

“Jake, my blessed child,” the guardian angel said, flapping his wings and sitting on Jake’s albinoed shoulder, naked and waiting for the lover who would never come, “you must forgive, bless, tolerate, love, and celebrate. Did I mention love? How can you build a house of my Lord, if you do not love?”

“If only I could, Savior, if only I could. But I find that now is the time to dispense with superficial forgiveness. Yes, they are blessed. Yes, they are loved. Yes, they are celebrated. But no, they are not connected to me. I will love them from afar.”

“As do I, my child,” the guardian angel said, a tear coming out of his eye.

And that tear fell onto Jake’s head, and when it did – oh, and when it did – Jake felt such a surge of love in him that, yes, he ran to his lover, he embraced that family, he kissed the sister, he hugged the niece, he tousled the nephew’s hair – and he said I love you, family, I love you … but goodbye, and forever goodbye.