Winter’s Morning Bliss
A few years ago, when Peter was alive, we liked to go to Barne and Nobles, the bookstore. We would browse through the books then sit down with the books at one of their little tables with a cup of coffee and pastry.
I remember one cold snowy morning in the middle of the week, Peter had taken off from work because he had just finished a long and grueling trial. It always stressed him because he felt he needed to try his cases to the very best of his ability. Sometimes it was almost impossible because the odds were stacked so very much against the person. At the end of this particular trial, he was feeling especially drained. He liked his client and believed in him. He won the case, but it had taken a lot out of him. That night he slept peacefully and deeply. The next morning he woke up late. He suggested we go to the bookstore in Bayside. I was game to whatever he wanted.
The snow clad world was hushed. The day felt magical. We drove there through very light traffic. Because of the snow, the parking lot was practically empty. The snow was steady but not fierce. As was our habit, we walked arm in arm. We entered the bookstore. We walked to the middle of the store, where was a strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned us. We chose a table by the window where we could watch the snow gracefully dance its way to the frozen ground. As was my habit, I ordered café au lait, a buttered roll, and orange marmalade. Peter ordered a sticky bun and American coffee. There was soft romantic music playing throughout the store. We watched the snow fall and listened to the music. In my mind, that moment in time is etched deeply and indelibly. That dreamy memory still fills me with such a joyous contentment.
Oh my darling husband, life with you was so beautiful, so perfect. I feel so blessed to have been your wife…