It had been a year since I buried my parents, and I was just recovering from the emotional stress. Most people love their parents, but I don't think that many are as close to their parents as I was to mine. They weren't famous, but they were wonderful people. They raised me very well, seeing that I had everything that I needed. Love, attention, understanding, support in my endeavors. It took a while for me to get over their deaths.
     It wasn't a case of getting a telegram telling me that they were gone. I was there for the months that they were ill. I was determined that they would not be sequestered in some nursing home. I was there, having quit my job, to see them through the end. I had converted the den into my bedroom and watched over them, often missing large chunks of sleep at a time.
     My mom had cancer, metastasized carcinoma. My dad suffered a heart attack and stroke. She preceded him by hours. My mom died in the hospital at three in the morning. I woke twenty minutes prior to the event, at home, feeling a deep sense of loneliness, knowing that she was dying. My dad passed away later in the day. He suffered a fatal stroke while we were at the funeral home, making the arrangements, dying in my arms.
     Perhaps it was best that he didn't have to linger on and suffer the grief. All I know is that it changed me. Everyone tells me how wonderful I was for doing what so many delegate to others. All I feel is that it was a debt that I couldn't refuse, a debt of love.
     I was fortunate, I guess, as fate has it, to have been single. Well, actually I was long divorced. A three year marriage with one premature child that didn't survive two days. But that was twenty years past. I seldom thought of it, once I recovered from the trauma. I held no real grudges against Mary. I realize that we were both quite young and the mistakes were those of the almost mature. I never expressed to her the pain that I felt. She found me a couple of times since, but I never went to visit her. Things were congenial, but rather shallow. Careful, while appearing to be at ease, is a good way to describe it.
     I received a letter from her after my folks' death, expressing her sympathy. There were a few things in it that rubbed me wrong, but I didn't hold it against her. I figured that it was my mood, rather than her intent that grated against my nerves. I don't know why, but I wrote her back. Her letter was rather short. Mine was rather lengthy. Don't ask me why. I guess it was a matter of timing.
     I guess that I wanted her to understand from first source, rather than a sketchy story from third hand. But I was honest about my feelings, and lack of them on certain issues. Maybe it got to her, changed her image of me, or something.

     Three weeks later, she showed up at my door, not at all the same person that I remember. She had changed, and by more than the two decades that separated us. Mary was now a cyborg. She had gone on to become a dedicated technician, and now was a part of a science team that was headed off toward the stars for exploration. I remember her first words when I answered the door.
     "Does it shock you that much?"
     "No, I guess not. You don't look that much different in the face. I guess I still see the hospital procedures in your equipment."
     "I'm sorry about your parents."
     "Perhaps it was for the best. My mom was becoming a bit senile from the tumors in her brain. And my dad had a long road for recovery. I don't think that he wanted to survive her."
     "You said that he had a stroke."
     "Minor. He was recovering from it. Mostly vision and his left side coordination. Not a major stroke, to the point that he couldn't get around and do things, until he died. It mostly stopped him from operating things with dials and readouts. But he could still walk and think."
     "Well, I'm happy that you made it through okay."
     "I'm not so sure about that. I don't have near the drive that I used to have. Life seems a bit futile at times. But I guess that you helped me gain strength there when we broke up. The hard times of breaking up gave me the experience I needed to endure losing my parents."
     "You do look a bit stronger than you used to look. There is a power to you now that wasn't there before."
     I shrugged. "Come on in and take a load off of your feet. Would you like something to eat or drink?"
     "Special diet. But thanks anyway. So, what do you think?"
     "I think that you are looking good. You look excited about your future. I like that. That's something that was missing years ago."
     "Well, I've done a lot in the last fifteen years. In a way, I guess that you inspired me. You were so scientifically oriented in your artistic ways. There was nothing that you didn't understand when it came to science and technology."
     "Just a natural inclination."
     "But you never really did anything with it."
     "You mean career-wise? I guess that I was wasn't one to be tied down for life. I'm doing all right for myself. I've managed to put enough away working contract to assure that the bills are paid."
     "You could have gone much further."
     "Probably, and been miserable. I'm my own boss now. My efforts are my own. I'm not achieving great deeds, but I don't feel the need to do great deeds. My dreams are different."
     "A shame. You have such potential."
     "So do plenty of others, and they have the dream."
     "Well, I guess that it's your right."
     "I've experienced what I feel to be success. I've done what many dream of doing while they are reaching great deeds."
     "You mentioned you aren't in the market for a new mate."
     "I've got plenty of friends. Friends don't jump in your stuff."
     "I only got after you because I cared."
     "I see that, but you never understood my drives. They just aren't what most people's drives are. I want a comfortable house, which I have. But I also want a sense that I accomplished what was important to me. I don't want to resent the dreams. And working for others strictly on their terms is not my idea of accomplishment. Getting stuck when the need has been fully satisfied is not what I want. I want to be able to move on to other things when the call comes. To work at different things until I feel that I understand them, then move on, using my previous learning to pave even further. It's not easy. It's not easy to tolerate, either."
     "Aren't you lonely way out here?"
     "Sometimes, but not often. And I have plenty of transportation to go visit those that I want to see. I have a phone. And I have friends close by. It suits me better than anything that I've had so far. I don't have a bunch of hassles, so I can stay focused and productive. That's what I want out of life. And I'm getting it. When I die, I'll have my regrets, but they will be largely outweighed by the sense that I've lived life the way I see fit for me."
     "Well, I'm glad to see that you feel that way."
     "Let's talk about you."
     "Tell me about your parents first."
     "Well, I wrote to you about what happened."
     "I know. What are your feelings?"
     "I guess I feel that I did the right thing, being here for them. It was a sacrifice on my part to give up a few years to see that their final years were as easy as possible, but it was one that I gladly gave in return for the sacrifices that they made for me. It was hard, watching them slip away. But I was quick to pick up on the medical side of things, and now I've gained that for my future. It put me through the wringer, but I stood up to it, putting feelings aside until I had time for it. It hurt, and hurt deeply. But that was nothing new."
     Mary was silent for a while. But then she finally spoke. "So what do think of what I'm doing?"
     "I don't know that many details. I feel that you are in for trials that you've never faced before. The separation, isolation, the closed environment, the uncertainty. I hope that what you achieve will be worth the effort and sacrifice to you. I hope that you return safely and satisfied. I hope that there is nothing to cause you resentment for those that led you into making this choice. The future will tell. But it's your dream, and I hope that you get all the desired results."
     "Do you think that I'm running away from things?"
     "No. From what I can see, you're running to, not from. You are a part of something big that will be remembered for many years to come. That seems to me what you are wanting. And if it satisfies you, then I'm all for it. I only wish that which will bring you self-assurance and fulfillment. If it leads you to hold your head high, then I think that it's great."
     "Do you find all of this gear repulsive?"
     "Not really, besides what I see from my own experience at the hospitals. But besides that, I see life support for conditions that are beyond normal. It's obviously designed to keep you alive and functioning where you couldn't do so with your given body. Your body is not nearly as important as your mind, except in the way that it supports your mind."
     "You surprise me, but you were always doing that."
     "No comment."
     "I guess that I never judged you very well."
     "We were much younger then."
     "No. It was more than that."
     "We grew up differently. How can a person know what another thinks and feels when the experiences are beyond imagination? We can estimate what we do not know, but we can never truly understand fully. Human limitations."
     "Closer to the truth. I rather expected you to look at me and see a freak, something that I was not."
     "No, you're still Mary, growing and changing, becoming more than you were. The machinery is just an extension. That's all."
     "You haven't touched me yet."
     "I probably wouldn't have anyway. I feel that our relationship is a now mental one, no longer a physical one. We had a physical one and failed. That's over, for me. I have no desire to return to that, even without all this. But I do still care how you feel. I still hope for the best for you, like I always did. I know that it may be hard for you to see that. But it's true. At the time, I was just wrapped up in the things that were affecting me. I was in a transition, and it was a rough one, and it affected you adversely. I never wished you ill. It just happened that way."
     "Oh, it wasn't that bad. Not in retrospect."
     "Nothing in retrospect is as bad as it was while it was occurring. Memory won't let you carry the pain that long, not unless the pain was self-fabricated."
     "We did have some good times." She smiled a smile I remembered very fondly, one of the things I always loved about her.
     "True. And some wild ones. Those parties were something else."
     "Yes. I guess that we tend to remember the pain because it comes last. I feel that I do owe you for some things."
     "Nah. You'd have found them anyway."
     "Don't be so sure."
     "I won't argue."
     "I wish that we had stayed in touch more. This will probably be the last time that we see each other. It will be two decades before I return, if I return."
     "Well, I wish you the best."
     "I'll be thinking of you while I'm out there. You could do me a favor. I've tried to find Gerome, to say good-bye. I haven't had any luck. Could you track him down and mail him this? I'd appreciate it."
     "I'll give it a try."
     "Thanks. I'd better get going. Take care of yourself, and good luck. I mean that. Could I get a farewell kiss from you?"
     "I guess that I could manage that."
     She activated the servos and stood. "You still see, don't you?"
     "What?"
     "People usually look at the way that I move. You looked at my face, not all the machinery that I have on me. Most people watch the machine. You look at my face. I like that. Thanks."
     She hugged me around the chest, and I bent forward to kiss her. I must admit that I did hold back. She sensed it.
     "Is that all I get? Is it me or the machine?"
     "It's me. The memories that I don't wish to reawaken. There is still pain there, about myself, the way I was back then."
     "I still love you, in a way. I'll carry that love to the stars. Know that. Kiss me again, but mean it this time."
     I complied, my eyes misting. She stroked my cheek, whispered farewell in my ear, then left, looking back twice.