His wife died not long ago, sick for two years. After running into each other on the street, we reminisced. He said in the end things happened fast and she entered a coma in hospital. He started crying over the fact that she didn’t get the death she wanted, his words. True, who would not rather choose which way to the cliff vs. being dragged and blindfolded. When a performer knocks me out I like to tell them, but the first time I saw her she made off through the building’s rear exit. The second time I was with a friend who laughed so hard it became a wheeze and I feared not knowing what to do if this was an asthma attack. They motioned me away with authority like a traffic cop’s sign language. Eventually I cornered her and delivered my gushing, but never felt she understood how sincerely in awe I was. Maybe it just isn’t possible to convey those things. She didn’t seem to believe me or didn’t know what to do with a compliment, understandable. I hurt someone’s feelings one time after playing the piano and being disappointed with not achieving my aim. Later, after they complimented me, I made some callous rely insinuating their perception was wrong and I should know since I played it. I could see the confusion in their face as I rejected their view which was after all, their view. It’s not necessary to do that, even if you aren’t pleased with what you did. You only know your perspective, it isn’t the only one that feels right to someone. I bet being such a wide thinking artist, she prepared herself for this possibility, not getting the death she wanted. I bet she knew her man would be crying about it too. One more unknowable thing among the trillions of unknowables.