Sunday it will be three weeks.
Three weeks of pondering.
Three weeks of wondering.
Three weeks of second guessing herself.
On Sunday it will be three weeks since she walked into the bedroom and found him.
It was the second marriage for each them. She was never the darling girl, but more of a power-house, a force of nature. He was the veteran soldier, the gardener, the quiet man. Together, they were an odd couple, with a deep affection of one another.
They moved to town when the labors of the farm became too much for him. She told me the move was supposed to keep him from over doing the garden, but he still toiled and tilled the land each spring. The bounty of vegetables not only graced their own table, but those of their children, friends, and the local food bank. He was known for his green thumb and many families in need benefited from his talent and her generosity.
Saturday night they had stayed out late, having dinner with her daughter's family. He had a couple of drinks, something that she felt was odd, but since she never drank and she always drove, she didn't give it a second thought. As usual, she was up early Sunday morning. She made the coffee. Read the paper.
She glanced at the clock and marveled that he was sleeping so late.
An hour passed.
She has never been known for her patience and finally in her brisk manner she thundered into the bedroom to ask if he planned on sleeping the entire day away.
And then she knew.
When she phoned me, just an employee at the gym she works out at, she related the story in her forceful, bullish way. There was no sound of distress in her voice. Her words were sharp and unbroken by emotion. I grieved at her story, a sadness welling up inside of me for a loss she surly felt, but couldn't release.
She's had nearly three weeks to mull her loss and wrestle with the thought that she should have gone in sooner to wake him up. If only she'd gone in sooner...
It's been a terrible struggle for her, dealing with the emotions of others. She is not an emotional person and while everyone around her is seeking closure, she bulldozing her way through arrangements and paperwork. I know she grieving, even as she states that she's leaving town to get away from everyone, not because she mournful, but because she's tired of everyone's need to talk.
I haven't seen her in person and I wonder how she'll be when she returns. I hope she'll find the peace she needs and that she can put to rest the question of "what if".
It happened so fast. So unexpectedly.
It's all so personal and terrible.
When I think about her loss it only reminds me to love my Beloved more, because he may not be here tomorrow. So, I watch him sleep and wonder at our future and vow to make more time for us, somehow knowing that there will never be enough time and that one day one of us will wonder what if...