My Life After Death

I write this so that it will help others who may find themselves in my shoes one day.

David and I discussed what we would do would do if one of us passed away. There is no one in life who I loved more than my husband. Though I’m a loner, which I thought would carry me now that he is gone.

I told him more than once that I would sell the house immediately and move away. Said there was no way I could live here without him. It set me back on my heels that the opposite has happened.

When the fog began to lift and I could see a little daylight, the thought of living anywhere else was out of the question. We have a three bedroom, three bath home in a rural area. It sits on an acre of land with lots of pine, palm, and oak trees.

We used to sit on the porch with our morning coffee and watch the squirrels run up and down the trees, sit on their haunches munching acorns. The breeze would swoop across the open porch and caress us ever so gently.

“It doesn’t get any better than this,” we sighed.

I never dreamed I could live here without him; thought it would be unbearable. It is a shock that I feel just the opposite now that I’m faced with the decision to leave. It has taught me to never say, never.

David may be gone physically, yet I see and sense his presence all around me. I sit in his recliner and feel him wrapped around me. I am struck by a fierce emotion that to leave our home would be to leave my husband.

We have a history with this house after twenty-four years. Whenever David cut the grass I would wait a bit, than carry out a cold glass of water or iced tea. He would cut the mower back while we talked for a minute. We gave a little peck and turned back to our chores.

In the last years, we began a tradition that will stay in my heart until we are together again. A look would pass between us and David would open his arms; I would lay my head on his shoulder and we would swear: “It’s you and me to the end, babe.”

In His mercy, God has blessed me with another partner. My best friend has come to live with me. Jeni had lost her daughter and was alone in Ohio; I’m alone here in Florida. It works so well for us, we are a team.

Jeni was also very close to David. We sit on the porch in the afternoon cool and reminisce of our years together. The squirrels scamper up the trees as we relive stories of the past and …

David’s laughter fills the breeze that drifts across the porch.

 May Your Glass Always Be Half Full

About Maxi

Hi … I'm Maxi, a retiree with an addiction. I have quit: raising kids, cleaning house, cooking, doing laundry—there is no end the list—everything is done on "have to." The addiction? Writing to my last breath. blessings ~ maxi
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