Without You

Without You

The house is quiet
Except for the ticking of many clocks and the soft hum of appliances.
Even when you were alive and away at work or play, your robust presence filled the house.
Now that you are gone, and your personal belongings are removed from closets and drawers,
all that remain are smiling photographs, a few select items of yours sitting on shelves,
the gifts you delightedly surprised me with, and the bank of memories.

Ah, the memories of eight years of marriage to a good, kind man
who loved me unconditionally in the middle of both of our lives.
Money cannot buy that sort of happiness.

You brought me fresh bouquets of sweet-fragranced flowers.
You whispered 'sweet nothings' into my 50 year old ears and shared your dreams with me.
On a whim, we would toss a few clothes into a suitcase and jump in the car for a road-trip
to 'wherever' the highway took us until nightfall when sleep would overtake us.
We saw towns and waysides that I would have never known about except for you.
We stopped for chocolate milkshakes and cheese crackers and parked by the river for a picnic.

As we strolled department store aisles, one of us would reach for the other's hand and grin.
Many a time we would bundle up warmly and drive to a nearby field,
spread a blanket and look up into the starry blue-black sky to watch meteor showers.
The first shooting star I ever saw, we were together - that was magical.
Like children, we would exclaim excitedly, "Oh, look at that one...and that one!"

A hundred bright and cheery things we did together, enjoying life.
We laughed a lot and cried some and just lived out ordinary days together.
Then one hot August morning, a dreaded diagnosis came forth.
Squeezing much into a small frame of time, we rushed to finish your dreams.
One was to fly, and you did - leaving the bonds of earth in small planes belonging to friends.
On a cold November night, I held you close for the last time then tenderly let go.
You gazed beyond me and spoke softly, "It is so beautiful. It is so beautiful."
You soared from earth's physical restraints to the infinite realm of God.

Without you,
the house is quiet
but so is my heart.
Because we loved one another and because there are memories to last a lifetime,
I can smile and know that I am a blessed woman to have known you.

Story ID:	1389
Written by:	Susan Hammett Poole (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	In Memory
Location:	Cartersville, Georgia USA
Year:	2002
Person:	husband Denver