How do you measure a life?

Do you measure it by the numbers
In your bank account
Your numerous achievements

Your red ledger book of wins?

Or in the chance interactions
The moments
You touched someone
The exchanges

The depth of connection
You had with
Loved ones

People you truly let in

I can no longer shut out the pain
Or the tenderness
Of being fully human

And all of it

I remember telling you off
Your apology

And then that was the last time
We met

But now you’ve gone.
Taking away with you
Your flaws, indiosyncracies
And habits

You bad jokes

Why should I care?

I don’t know

I remember your kindness and helpfulness

Next to your judgement and sometimes careless words

Is this what it means to be human?

You felt real — solid

The memory surreal

But green in my mind

And you’re gone now.

I don’t know how you measured life

But surely it was through people
And the lives you somehow tried your best to reach

Even in your own blindness, flaws and inadequacies.

Obtuseness

You tried.

Perhaps that’s all that matters.