by Luke Lively
With great hopefulness I pray Joshua is recovering from the injuries he suffered in the car wreck. Ann and I have prayed constantly for his speedy and healthy recovery.
Writing this letter is something I would not normally do, but given the circumstances, I feel compelled to impose. I am now but a short time from passing away from this world. In the past year I have shared my life with Jack, a person I have seen change and grow.
Jack is a good person. He was very much like me, working too much and spending the precious time we are given in life at a job instead of with his family. He has realized his errors, as I did, and learned from his experiences. He has made himself into a much different and more giving person. I am proud of him and think of him as if he was my son.
As one of my last acts on this planet I ask with all humility that you would give Jack an opportunity to show you how he has changed. I do this not to attempt to manipulate or push you into something you may not feel comfortable doing, but with a more selfish purpose. I would enjoy meeting you and the children before I leave. What happens after that will be up to you and Jack.
Since my time is limited, I hope you forgive me for my urgent plea. I am enclosing airline tickets for you, Jessica, and Joshua.
I look forward to meeting you, if not now, some other time.
Sincerely,
Benny
“I didn’t know,” I said. “Cause and effect.” I leaned forward and cupped my hands over my eyes. It was true. Even though he was gone he still had an effect. As we sat in silence on the couch together I felt Tina’s hand touch me on my back. I dropped my hands and turned my head to look at her.
“Benny said in his letter ‘To live is to learn,’ and I’ve learned a lot,” she said, lifting her head upward and slowly turning to face me.
Our eyes met.
“So have I,” I said, reaching down and taking her hands in mine. “I’ve changed. Can I prove it to you?”
“You don’t have to—I know it.”
Love is unquestionable.
—BENJAMIN FRANKLIN PRICE AND
ELIZABETH ANN PRICE
EPILOGUE: What Is Love?
IT’S NOW JULY. OVER a year has passed since Benny began a new journey.
Tina and the kids love the Roanoke Valley. Jessica will begin graduate school at Virginia Tech next month. She is planning to be a psychologist. Joshua was accepted at Roanoke College and will begin his freshman year in a few weeks. He wants to be a banker.
They’re both happy.
Tina is teaching kindergarten at South Salem Grade School. She has run two marathons and is preparing for the Boston Marathon.
She is happy.
Tina and I exchanged marriage vows for the second time a year ago tomorrow. We are now a happy family.
What about me? I am first a husband and a father. I also happen to be a banker, trying my best to keep my promise to Benny to keep Citizens Bank thriving and part of the community. Ann and I continue to work together on the Benjamin Franklin Price Jr. Foundation. Tina, Jessica, and Joshua are also very involved with the foundation.
Not that it matters much, but Merchants Bank was sold. Andrew Ledger abruptly retired and remains under indictments for several purported crimes, including fraudulently misleading investors by reporting overstated earnings. Additional indictments were handed out to three of the corporation’s top executives. “Cause and effect” as I can almost hear Benny say it.
Where am I? I now stand at the edge of the gorge looking down on the river far below. The trek up the mountain is something I now do often to remind myself of what fear can do. I’ve shared the hike with Tina, Jessica, and Joshua and told them about Benny. Benny was right, it wasn’t a fear of heights that held me back; it was a fear of falling. I’m not afraid of falling, now.
“The view is incredible, but you have to look over the edge to appreciate it,” Benny had said to me. As I stand looking down into the gorge, another memory resurfaces. I remember rafting with Benny in the wild white water far below.
One of the rafts near us had capsized. Since I was not a good swimmer, I was in a panic. Benny leaned over and yelled so I could hear him over the rapids, “Don’t be afraid! The safest thing is to lean out and row—or we will all get wet!”
I listened and responded. I quit hanging on and began to row, leaning out of the boat to reach the water. We never capsized.
As I start my hike back down the mountain, I look past the heavy summer foliage into the bright blue sky knowing my friend is aware that I finally let go and began living. It took a lot of time and practice to quit hanging on, but I did it—with his help. I live now. The world that surrounds me may be turbulent, but just like navigating the white water, I have learned to row and do my part. Not just for me, but for everyone.
I’m happy.
While I continue to question my life to keep me on course, being with my family reminds me of something Benny and Ann had both said to me.
“Love is unquestionable.”
They were right.