Tristesse
As I went downstairs this morning to get my morning cup of tea, I felt very melancholy. There is a band of pain bound tightly around my heart. Four years ago today was the day my beloved Peter suddenly and without warning slipped out of this world on his way to heaven. My throat tightens in an effort to control the ache his loss brings to me.
I look out of the kitchen window. I smile a sad smile. Overnight the honeysuckle bushes have climbed over the fence. They dangle clusters of their sweet flowers over the two park benches beneath them. My mind wanders to bygone days when Peter and I sometimes sat there at the start of a new day, silently sipping our tea and listening to the birds joyfully singing their morning songs. It was a companionable silence before the world woke up and ruined its serenity.
I stand there, looking out at the honeysuckles, lost in fond memories. Sadly I turn around. My tea is done. I pour it out and slowly climb up to our bedroom. It is Saturday. Kelly has taken the dogs for their long walks and meeting friends in the park. I can temporarily lay claim to my old armchair. I wearily sit down with a sigh. The radio is playing ‘Stranger in Paradise.’ I used to be very familiar with paradise. Not anymore. My husband is gone. I lost him and paradise. I slowly rock myself on the old armchair as I remember my melancholy memories. A lone tear rolls down my cheek. I sip my tea.