They were just now tearing down the brick convalescence home that inhabited the corner of my block after it was condemned from the 5.5 earthquake. It was dawn now as I watched the oversized bulldozer with human like qualities reach over the disaster area and finish what the trembler had started.

I remembered that night carrying the elders from their beds to the streets. Myneighbors and me walked the corridors of streams and water from broken pipes which soaked our panicked bodies. Soon the building will be completely gone and new people who move here will never know it even existed.

Things change.

I was baptized, again. And now, with my original sin behind me, I faced the prospect of marriage.

Father Feenan had his cataracts for years, "Only blurs, blurs of color, that's all I can see." He said to me and Donna during our first marriage class. "I don't mind though, " he continued, "If He had meant for me to see in my old age, I wouldn't' have gotten these darn things." He laughed and I wondered what he thought was funny.

"What about medicine or surgery? I know they do something for cataracts." I said.

"Yes, why not lasers? They work pretty good," hinted Donna.

"I heal what I can heal from within. With what the good Lord has given me. It's amazing the power we hold within ourselves, and I feel you two are learning this as well with all your successful transitions."

We liked approval. We smiled and held each others hand.

As we left the Father that day, I felt strong, together, and in the right.

I thought Donna was pretty. Her nose curled under and a small brown mole decorated her right cheek. Before we got to the car Donna said she had some good news for me. "The gallery loved your new painting. "

"Did you?" I said quickly turning my head towards her.

"Well, yeah, I love everything you do."

We got in the car. She turned to me. "$4,500.00. Your painting was boughtby the first buyer to see it. $4,500."

"What?"

"I sold your painting for $4,500. He said he was a friend of yours."

"Who?"

From out of her pocket she pulled a waded up envelope that wasn't sealed. "He asked me to give this to you."

I opened the letter and saw Donna look away. Something told me she had already read it.

Dear Greg,
Sometimes we have to end something to begin something else. I'm sorry for disappearing but I felt I had no choice in order to discover my new life. And what's this new life of yours I've seen on the television and read in the papers? Sometimes we think we can re-invent ourselves, change what we may not like or understand, and hope perhaps "life will be better." Trust me, it will not. My son taught me that.You're hiding from who you are Greg and I know the bottom will drop out soon. And when it does, perhaps the bottle of sleeping pills you took before will work this time.Stop what you are doing. You can have all of your success and more if you honor who you are and fill your heart with pride. Corny, I know, but it's true. Without pride for who you are, you have no self-respect.Don't go down this path. You will most certainly, inevitably, become more lost than you are right now.

Love, Hugo.

I turned to Donna and she stared me down.

"Why did you let me read this?"

"He's your friend. It's your choice, not mine."

She couldn't look at me because we both knew this letter from Hugo spoke the truth-- the truth that now cut like a razor across my heart.