Well hon, it took me a while, but I finally have you where I can talk to you.
He settled back into his armchair, his gaze drawn to the pine box on the wall. The inset photo of her brought a smile to his aged face.
He loved that photo of her. The two of them, sitting on the couch at Bob's place--could she still remember? The kids surprised them with a family dinner for their forty-fifth. He’d asked June to use her computer to take him out of the photo. She'd worked so hard fixing that bed of roses for her mother to sit on.
You loved your roses--hope you're surrounded by them now.
He reached for the rye and ginger on the table beside his chair. He sipped his drink, the ice clinking softly in the glass as he glanced around the room. It was as she left it before being taken to hospital. Her presence was everywhere. He wasn’t going to change it.
His thoughts drifted back to the first time he saw her and her sister walking toward him on a Toronto sidewalk. Recently back from the war, he had more confidence than before he left. As he watched the tall, willowy brunette approach he knew he had to say something. That smile and her graceful movements drew him in even more.
He stumbled over a question about the weather. The look she responded with should have melted him into the sidewalk never to be heard from again. He swallowed as he reminded himself - he’d been in combat. This was not terrifying. He gave her a broad smile. Her face softened. She returned the smile. They chatted and walked on together.
He set his drink on the table, his attention shifting away from the picture window. Her beloved roses swayed in the breeze on the trellises he’d built for her around the edge of the deck. Gardening was in his future. The roses and all her other plants would need his care now.
They’d had fifty years together -- too long and too short. Through it all they built a life together for themselves and their now adult children. It wasn’t always easy living with each other. Some days he questioned if they should stay together.
Then I’d remember my love for you. I couldn’t imagine not being together. Here I am, without you.
He wasn’t sure if her appearance had been a dream or a vision. She’d appeared in her room, standing by one of her purses and pointing. When he looked at that purse he’d found a set of missing keys. He believed she was sending him a message. There was life after death.
Your appearance gave me hope hon. We’ll be together again. Thank you for that.
He picked up his drink and glanced down at the dissolving ice before taking a sip. He looked toward her picture, tears streaming down his face as he quietly sipped his drink.
Death did not part them.
Until Next Time — Just Steem on
