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I wrote this shortly after my wife passed away due to cancer.
The Widower
He came to the cemetary by himself that day. He climbed from the truck and stood at the foot of her grave,head down. "Hey babe,how you doing?" he said. He stood for a few minutes. His entire being aching over his loss.
Whispering a " I love you,Babe."
He moved back to the truck,removed a sharpshooter shovel and prepared to begin working at digging a trench around the four gravesites.Preperation for pouring a protective curb .
Ocasionly he would pause from his task and share a few thoughts or such with his wife,now departed.
He relized he was crying,tears rolling down his cheeks. He was crying for no reason more than just grief still residing within him.
He finished digging the trench,tossed the shovel into the back of the truck....and sat beside the grave.
His thoughts drifted,he remembered how alive she had made him feel.
And he felt how dead inside he was now.
He began to cry again,first a few tears fell,then a sobb.....then full out gasping choking sobs racking his body.
He wrapped his arms around himself....and let the pent up grief pour out.
He cried....for what had been.....and what would be......without her.
He cried for the regrets he felt......regrets of done,and not done.
He pulled himself together,dried his wet cheeks,scrubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands.... gaining control over his grief.He sat for a few more minutes...unwilling to leave...unable to stay.
Finally....he sighed,he pressed his right hand into the loose soil on her grave.
Wishing it was her he was touching. Miserable because it was'nt. He squeezed his hand into a fist...squeezing the dirt into a hard ball...using a intensity they had both shared.....to put it out there for her..
' I miss you with all my heart...my soul is dark with out you...sleep well,my love....I love you.'
He rose to his feet,looking down at his clenched fist,he opened his hand and losened the hard ball with his fingers.Scatering the soil over the grave.
" I love you." he wispered.
He turned and moved to the truck. His steps slow ,reluctant to leave.
In the truck he looked at her grave..."see you in a few days,babe" He said.
He went home.
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I hope you enjoyed the story Vote! Comment!! Become a Fan!!! Thanks!!!!
06/10/2002
Keith Groening
