That Morning

I woke up. The headache I had last night was gone. Looking up towards the window I saw the blue curtains flutter in the dry autumn breeze.
Two sparrows were chattering on the window pane. I sat up straight feeling quite light and fresh,did not have much trouble standing up as well,considering being in the dusk of my life.
After stretching my arms I freshened up. Did not feel like eating so I went out to take a walk. The morning air brushed through my face ,made me feel hopeful,uplifted my morals. It was still quite early the street was deserted.

Leading a lonely life in the suburbs was tough,but I did have company once in a while when a couple of friends showed up or the neighbors decided to stop by.
To this day I miss the warm presence of my wife. She was all the family I had but she decided to leave at an early age. I did have everything until she departed.

Disease, she had acquired,doctors said could not have been cured. It was painful watching her suffer with such a fate. I stayed by her but the day she passed she was relieved,but I felt as if at some level I have been diseased. Diseased of grief,of loneliness,of guilt that could not be cured.

The streets were covered with golden leaves that rustled with the breeze as the sunlight peeked through the bare trees which heralded the advancement of winter. The air was filled with the sounds of distant twittering of the birds. I walked in a steady pace towards the playground nearby.

I sat on a bench in the playground. I used to come here in the evenings. Watched the children play and people walking their dogs.
Trying to mingle with strangers sympathizing with their predicament. Trying to fill the gap in my life that awaited back in the house that used to be my home.

Sometimes I do feel guilty.
Guilty of not spending more time with her. What if I had not gone off to that business trip, could have spent more valuable time with her. But life seemed just too short back then. It felt like the essential sacrifice to win at the end. Business flourished but things went unsaid. Yes the time has now passed. I came back and a month later she was diagnosed.

She was a brilliant woman but her memory started to fade. The very memory that gave her the identity. That made her what she was. People think I lost her when she passed but her actual death was much before, when she had lost her memory.It was hard but I did stick around till the end. It made me believe that true power does not come from something divine but from our very own minds.

I sighed and got up to leave.

As I walked by the houses I could here people. Some seemed busy,busy with their own schedule. The sun had shifted its position across the sky. People were awake.
Getting ready to leave for jobs or errands.
The garden sprinklers had come to life . The newspapers on the front porch of some of the careless houses were being drenched.

I had to get to the house,not that I had any work to do,except to tend to my garden.

I could see the house at a distance. Some people had gathered in front of it.
I approached the house. I could hear some people on the streets saying Mr. Martin had died.

I thought that was weird.

I am Mr. Martin.
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I was James Martin.