A Letter To

It's years now since you had to say goodbye. The funny thing is I still don't always remember you have gone.

That's when the phone rings, and I think it might be you calling, or a car pulls into the driveway, and I think, "Oh,he's come home." The mind, or is it the heart, plays strange tricks, my love.

A great many things have changed since that beautiful day in September when we gathered to send you on your last trip. I remained until recently in our home as you predicted I would, despite my fears. You had reassured me I would be alright, and the loneliness would be overridden with the happy memories. You were so right, but you often were. I have to admit that now. Perhaps I didn't always.

There are new people in my life; most of whom you never met. So many friendships we shared ended with illness and/or relocation during these years since you went away.

Many of your friends left soon after your departure. But, of course, you know that. The wonderful monthly luncheon group with your beloved friends has diminished now. Amazingly, those that remained were the elders. Wasn't life always interesting for both of us.

The child you worried about so much has done incredibly well, but, of course, you know that, too, don't you. Sometimes I wonder if you are still guiding him especially when he takes my hand as I emerge from the car, or when he tells me how when he is older, he will take care of me. The contribution you made in his challenged life is beyond description, and your memory will be with him all the days of his life.

There are new little princesses, and a great grandson now who will carry on the family name.

Your children are doing well, and you are mentioned constantly. We laugh often when we are doing something you would disdain, but if love were scored by remembering, ours would hit the top of the scale. I know you are quite proud of all of them just as you were before you had to leave. You did a great job with the children the Good Lord put into our care for a brief time.

I no longer worship in the beautiful chapel where we said our final goodbye. It has been closed and recently, de-sanctified. I returned to the church we visited together the day we bought our first and only house. Perhaps that is appropriate, too.

It hasn't been easy, but I have tried to live the life I would have wished you to have if I had been the one to leave first. Not always successfully, but I have truly tried. And I constantly remember one of the last things you told me before departing on your final journey. "I will give no grief." I hope I, too, have been able to make that choice. I know I will always remember those words and will keep doing so.

I realize how long it has been since that phone call changing my world forevermore, but there are days when I believe it was just seconds ago.

So, until..................................................................