Obligations

We leaned on the railing by the Kanawha River on a cool summer night listening to a bluegrass band with a kickass singer. 

A man near us went into, “Where are you from?” small talk. Within seconds, he launched into how his wife died six years ago, he lost a son, too. This was his first night out in months, also he still hasn’t gotten rid of his wife’s clothing.

We endured stories of his sorrows and philosophies all night, and I’m struck by two conflicting feelings. We did the right thing, but I’m still annoyed we missed that concert.

Illustration by Steve Spetseris