The Tailor

This Friday morning will begin the same way every Friday has been for the past three years.

I crawl out of bed at 7am, my eyes wet with tears. Make my way to the coffee pot to start a full pot, muttering to no one but myself, “You’re going to need a lot of this today.”

I sit at my desk and pull up photos on the computer of us. Remembering the love and joy we shared.  Three years ago today, Jason was at the tailor picking up his suit for our wedding, when he collapsed. The doctors said it was a pulmonary emboli, a blood clot to the lung. I was assured it was quick and that he didn’t suffer. That he felt no pain and died instantly. Perhaps Jason felt no pain, but I am in pain still, suffering his loss.

Three cups of coffee later, I make my way to the shower. His shampoo bottle still there, an ever present reminder. I make a mental note that today is the day I must discard it. After getting dressed in black dress slacks, and a black short-sleeved crew neck blouse, I put some make-on, another cup of coffee and a Xanax for my nerves, I prepare for my day.

On the way to my first stop, the florist, the memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Katherine will have two white rose bouquets waiting for me, as she does every Friday morning.  As I walk in she greets me with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. While we exchange chit-chat I see the pity in her eyes.  I told her I would not be needing these bouquets anymore after today.

She walked up to me, embracing me while whispering in my ear, “You’re doing the right thing, it’s going to start getting better now.”

“I hope you’re right Katherine. I hope so.”, I muttered fighting back tears.

Saying good-bye, she reminds me about our lunch plans for tomorrow and I just smile at her, already formulating an excuse in my head why I will cancel tomorrow morning.  As if reading my mind, she warns me she is picking me up at noon and to be ready.

A short ten minute drive to the Tailor shop, feels like hours today… I pull into the side street adjacent the shop and take one of the bouquets from the back seat of the car. Every time I open that shop door, the buzzer startles me…jolting me back into reality for a moment. Frank gets up from his desk behind the counter and greets me with a smile and a warm hug. Frank is a tall muscular man and when he hugs you, you feel safe and protected, as if you’ve been properly hugged.  He takes the bouquet from my hands, commenting on how beautiful it is while setting it in the waiting vase. He’s been kind enough to allow me to bring these flowers in every week as a memorial to my precious lost love.

“Frank, this is the last bouquet. I can’t do this anymore.” I told him, fighting for breath.

He turned to me, grabbing my hand in both of his, and said it would be okay. As Frank walks me to my car and opens the door for me, I thank him for his friendship and make my way towards this morning’s final stop.

Driving to the cemetery, I can sense Jason in the car with me, I can smell him and can almost feel his hand resting on my right thigh, something he always did while I drove, just rested his hand on my thigh; reassuring, lovingly. I slowly place my hand on my thigh, sensing him there.

I find my favorite parking spot vacant, underneath a large Royal Poinciana. I know when I return to the car it will be covered with red flower blossoms as they fall from the branches, somehow making me feel as if the tree shares in my sorrow.  Slowly getting out of the car and pulling the last bouquet from the back seat I slowly walk to the graveside of my love… wondering what his expression would have been seeing me walk down the aisle on our wedding day, the wedding day that never came. Suddenly a breeze blows and takes my breath away, stopping me in my tracks. I stand there a moment, enjoying this heavenly embrace and realize that I’ve made the right decision to end this Friday ritual.

Slowly finishing the short walk to the gravesite, I am flooded with memories. I gather my thoughts and dry my eyes, placing the bouquet on the headstone and blow a kiss to my love.

via Daily Prompt: Tailor

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

As she lay beside him watching him sleep, her right hand resting on his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath.  His body felt so warm, just being able to touch him brought immersurable comfort to her troubled soul.  She wondered how he would react to the news she had to tell him today. She’s been stalling in telling him that she finally got the biopsy results back. He stopped asking if she’d heard back from the doctor three days ago, because each time he asked it made her cry.  She’d put it off for two days now…today she’d tell him, over breakfast. She’d make his favorite.. banana walnut waffles with a fried egg over medium.

She slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. Pulling out the ingredients from the pantry: flour, baking powder, sugar… grabbed the eggs and milk from the fridge. Set everything on the counter and turned around to open the blinds over the kitchen sink… the sky was dark, thick heavy clouds. Thunder storms are rolling in. Hmmm… the news can wait until tomorrow… she wants to enjoy this day of cuddle weather with her man.

 

The Daily Post: Second Thoughts

Mysteries of the Universe

Mysteries of the Universe

Love, Friendship, and sincerity… three of the most baffling mysteries of the universe.

These three things are not tangible, merely words, or feelings, thoughts… you can’t touch it and honestly, can’t be certain if what you’re feeling, when you think you are feeling it is really true.  People can tell you that they love you, or that you are their cherished friend. But words without action – lack sincerity. Even sincereity  is not tangible. How we perceive someone’s words or action are also dependent on our own wants and needs – and even those are always fluid.

Daily Word Prompt: Sincere

The Books

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Sitting in my office and staring at the piles of books, I quietly contemplate how I will rearrange them…once again.

This is how I cope… when darkness hits… this is something that I can control… the arrangement of my books.

They’ve been arranged by color, height, alphabetically, and subject matter.  Hmmm, but today… what shall I do with them?

In the garage I found a few empty boxes… carefully stacking all the books I can fit into these boxes, because today I can’t even cope with rearranging the books.

 

Daily Word Challenge: Rearrange

Three Line Tale: The Smell of Fall

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This was the smell and color of Fall. It was also the beginning of my fall from peace and everything that was perfect…

I heard my phone ringing from the other room, but my hands a mess from gutting this perfectly shaped, bright orange pumpkin, it would have to wait.  Whomever it was didn’t leave a message, so could not have been that important I figured.

More ringing, again, and again… I quickly washed my hands and ran to the phone.

Breathless, I said “Hello!”

The other voice, a woman… “This is the Loudon County Sheriff’s Office…”

Three Line Tale: Week 39