The Bridges of Madison County

1. Gone for four days

I stood in the kitchen and cooked food as usual. My husband, Richard Johnson, was out in the field. He would be home any minute. My daughter, Carolyn Johnson, was searching for our dog. He had been away for such a long time, and my children were worried. They always used to say "Mom, what if he got hit by a car? Or a truck?" I do care about my children's feelings. But, I do not care about the dog. I don't even know why I pay for that dog. My son, Michael Johnson, is study hard to be a lawyer. He looks like his father and Carolyn as well. They are my true family. My heart. And my soul as well.

We sat at the table and ate dinner with each other. When the children were small we used to pray before dinner. Carolyn and Michael used to pray an extra time, my husband and I never understand why they did that. But they did. And their prayers were filled with love. But now they have grown older, and nothing is as it uses to be. They are now too old for having fairytales. They are too old to believe in Santa Claus or the Easter bunny. They are almost grown-ups now. And someday they will leave the house, and they will never come home again.

I remember the time when Carolyn and I use to cook with each other. We always used to listen to blues, jazz even opera sometimes. But now she has grown up and she's listening to pop music. The Beatles are screaming in the entire house. All I could do is just to let her be. I let her raise the volume to the song "Baby I'm yours" just because I know; she loves it! I will let her change her music style and I will let her mix with the radio in the kitchen. I will always love her, even if she doesn't like opera anymore. I'm her mother. And it's my job to see her evolve and to let her do it on her own. I know that Carolyn will be a strong woman in the future.

Michael and I use to play football at the back of our farm. He always used to win because he was running faster than me. And I saw in his eyes how funny he thought it was. And how much he appreciated that I was playing with him. But I think he appreciated the game more when his father came into the game. On Saturday nights we used to play football the whole family. The children against the adults. Guess who always won the game!

One day, they would all three drivers to the market in a town called Davenport, to compete with Carolyn's cow. They had asked me a couple of time if I wanted to come along. But I said no because someone had to take care of the farm while they were gone. Richard tried to take me with him but he couldn't persuade me. "Richard I will stay here. I'll be here when you come home!" Even if I really would like to go I had work to do at home. Someone had to take care of the field, the flowers, and what if the damn dog came back. And they would only be gone for four days so I got some time by myself. Richard kissed me and told me how much he would miss me. He told me about his problems of not be able to sleep next to me. "I'll be here when you come home"

And so they left. I saw the red car drive out on the small road that led to the big one. I saw the mist formed when they drove off the little gravelled. Carolyn and Michael waved so I could see them through the back window. I smiled and waved as well. My hearts were leaving for a couple of days. And I had to be alone.

I went out to the field by our old GMC car. Richard has to change the colour on it. At the beginning it was green, but he changed it into blue. Light blue because he knew that's my favourite colour. I watch the potatoes and the carrots. The sunflowers were growing bigger and longer. The sun was shining and about to go down, so I decided to go home again. I walked to the light blue GMC and drove all the way home. To our house. Richard's and my house. Our white house that has been inherited through Richard's family over 100 years. The house was old and some of the room looks exactly the same as it did 50 years ago.

Our bedroom is one of the oldest room in the house. It has yellow/brown wallpapers with tiny roses on. Over our bed, we had hung up two paintings from his mother who passed away last year. I've never seen Richard cry so much through my whole life like I did that day his mom passed away. Even when his father die like 10 years ago, he didn't cry at all. Richard has never told me about his childhood. But I think his father was bothering him and torturing him. He has marks left on his body after all the whipping. But he has never been talking about them. Not even when I ask him.

I was cleaning in the kitchen when I heard a dog bark. The damn dog came back after all. "There you are, we have been looking for you. Well, it's too late they already went away. Why do you love me, I don't love you at all" It was late so I head up to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth and let my hair fall down on my back. My brown, long hair. I remember how Richard use to play with my hair between his fingers when we were younger. I walk to bed, and this night I had no arms to sleep in. I had no Richard. He was gone and I was alone. Totally alone.