Seasons of the Heart

Winter

Winter

Betty woke up and turned to the empty side of the bed she had shared with Percy for the last twenty-seven years of marriage. There was still an indent in the mattress where he should have been laying alongside her, but it was cold and empty. She reached for his pillow and snuggled into it, breathing in his smell, she couldn't bear to wash the pillowslip as yet.

It had always been her fear, her nightmare that Percy would die in bed beside her but instead he died three days after his seventieth birthday in his beloved potting shed, his other home - his allotment. A quick final blast from his heart, bang, and over and out, Percy was no more.

It was a shock to all as Percy had never shown a sign of being ill beforehand, therefore the surprise party that had been planned for him was sadly turned into a wake. It seemed silly to cancel the family event as so much had be planned and paid for, besides Percy wouldn't have wanted any other way. All in all it had been a great send off for him.

Percy and Betty had four children, all grown up now with families of their own, giving them ten grandchildren, and two great grandchildren, and all but the littlest stood up at some point during the evening, holding their favourite picture of Percy and telling of a special memory.

Betty had cried tears of loss and tears of joy that evening, as had everybody else that attended. Only but a few relatives and friends did not attend for whatever their reason. Betty wondered if they probably thought it maudlin and strange to have a party when Percy wasn't even cremated yet.

Percy had told Betty, when they had discussed the 'who goes first' scenario, that he wanted a cremation and his ashes to be scattered all over his precious allotment, but now it came to actually doing it, Betty just couldn't. Instead he was in an urn, downstairs on the dining room table surrounded by decaying flowers and all the many cards and dusty tributes.

At sixty-five Betty had only just retired from the job she had held since the last of their kids had flown the nest. It was only a little part-time position in a local newsagents but she had loved it. Every day was different and she got to know a lot of the locals and hear titbits about their families and she enjoyed sharing her thoughts and family news with them.

She was not a gossip though, far from it. Whatever she was told, the only other person she shared it with was Percy. He was her best friend (and lover...) and now he was gone. With no job to get up for she was finding it difficult to get motivated. Even the thought of the dust gathering over her spic and span house could not tempt her to leap out of bed, dress and get on with the day.

"Just five more minutes with his pillow..." she told herself, "then I'll make a start."

* * * * *

Her house and home were a testament to her diligent cleaning and tidying away anything Percy left lying around. Even when the kids were there growing up, the house was never messy, per se, it was organised and 'allowed' mess. Betty had always been the stay at home Mum, and the babies had come quickly after marriage at eighteen - three early on, a couple of very sad miscarriages and then a surprise baby when she turned forty, but now they had all flown the nest.

Even the parrot she had named Samantha, (who after a visit to the vets became Sam,) which the kids had bought her some twenty years ago, had also passed away prematurely for a parrot at eighteen, leaving her with a very empty 'nest' to care for. Nest? Percy would have found the irony very funny. Now there's no one to care for, what was she to do? Where was her life meant to head? Was there to be just old age and loneliness?

They had lived in this house for all their married life, had all their kids here, survived through everything having children brings with it, and now the grandkids many of which were now grown up themselves and not in need of Grannies special love. Of course, there were the two great grandkids but they lived a good distance away and would not be popping in and out like the grandkids had.