Day 38
wonderful
I remember how he looked at me before we went to sleep. It was too wonderful. His eyes were so clear, even though the skin around them was wrinkled and drooping. He was so old, and he hadn’t looked at me like that in so long. He sat down on the edge of the bed and he rested his hand on top of mine. I pulled off my glasses and laid the open book down on my chest. Our hands were cold and dry, and no longer familiar with each other. Then he looked at me, right in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he said. I was so surprised I laughed. “All day?” “Yes, all day” he responded, as if it were nothing. I felt tears in the corners of my eyes and a slight rush of heat in my face. “What were you thinking about me?” I ask quietly. “I was thinking of our life. Of our long and beautiful life. And I think it was too wonderful for me.” I didn’t laugh. I didn’t even smile. I could see by the pained look on his face that he did not mean to romance me. “What do you mean?” I ask in a level voice. “I mean, sweet girl, that I don’t think I can live another day with you; I have found the limit of wonderful.”
Then he leans down and kisses my forehead. A long kiss that I still feel an hour later, after he has fallen asleep and the lights are out and I am laying there alone. I reach up and touch the spot on my forehead and begin to cry. A long quiet cry that does not wake him. A wonderful momentous cry full of memories and emotions unspent. A cry of release and relief. A once-in-a-lifetime cry. A cry too wonderful for me.
I open my eyes again, roll onto my back, and look at the ceiling. I know what I will feel this time, but I am not afraid. I reach over and touch his cold, still back.
